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AUTOBIOGEAPHICAL SKETCHES 



EECOLLECTIONS, 



A THIETY-FIVE YEARS' RESIDENCE IN 



NEW ORLEANS. 



BY 



THEODORE CLAPP. 



SECOND EDITION. 



BOSTON: 
PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & COMPANY. 

185 8. 



■1- 



^ I I 

'^ 5 U 5 % 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S57, by 

PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & COMPANY, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



C Wt 

Mrs. Henn«n Jennings 
April 26, 1983 



ELECXnOTTPED AT THE 
BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOtJNDRY. 



Cjie Ptiultrs of i\t Cjjurclj of ^\t Ptssiirfj 

IN NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA, 

THESE PAGES 
ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED, 

BY 

THEIIl LATE PASTOR, 
AND ETEK-INDEBTED FRIEND, 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



Those who peruse this volume will see that my 
life, ill many respects, has been uncommonly event- 
ful. Nearly thirty-five years have been spent in 
New Orleans. It has been my lot to pass through 
twenty most fatal and wide-spreading epidemics, in- 
cluding the yellow fever and cholera. Besides, 
during many of those summers which were reported 
to have been healthy by the medical authorities, I 
have witnessed a great deal of suffering and mor- 
tality among uiiacclimated strangers. 

It may be a mere fancy, but it has always struck 
me as a fact, that in Louisiana nature itself is, in 
many elements, less steady and uniform tlian in the 
higher latitudes of our country. Not unfrequently 
the alternations of health and sickness, joy and sor- 
row, commercial prosperity and misfortune, sweep 
over the Crescent City with the suddenness and 
fury of those autumnal hurricanes which occasion- 
ally visit it, by which in a few moments of time the 
strongest edifices are levelled with the dust, the ma- 
jestic live oaks and cypresses prostrated, and the 
vessels along the levee overwhelmed in the flood. 

It has beeu my duty one day to officiate as a 

(v) 



VI PREFACE. 

clergyman, when a lovely daughter, shining in all 
the charms and freshness of life's green spring, 
stood before the bridal altar, and took upon herself 
the beautiful vows of wedlock ; the very next, and 
in the same room, by the side of her coffin, I have 
been called to preside over that melancholy scene 
which is the termination of all earthly prospects. 
Standing in the pulpit one Sabbath, my attention 
was arrested by the interesting form of a young- 
gentleman before me, in the plenitude of health, 
and listening with apparent attention to my words. 
The Tuesday morning following it became my duty 
to accompany his corpse to the Cemetery, and to 
write a letter announcing the sad event to the sur- 
viving relatives in a distant land. 

Transitions from life to death equally sudden have 
been common occurrences in my experience. The 
New Orleans epidemics often prostrate hundreds of 
friends and neighbors in a day, and like the flash 
from the tempest-bearing cloud in a starless night, 
disclose to survivors the perilous rocks iipon which 
the bark of life may be dashed to atoms in an 
instant. As to mortality, the bloodiest battles of 
modern times can scarcely compare with the rav- 
ages of yellow fever. In 1853, more lives were 
destroyed than the British army lost on the field of 
Waterloo. A volume, however ably written, could 
not worthily portray the wretchedness caused by a 
single epidemic — its long annals of bereavement, of 
widowhood, of orphanage ; its unutterable griefs, 
solitude, and destitution ; its heart-rending specta- 
cles of thousands who fell without a relative or 



PEEFACE, VH 

friend near to close their eyes and perform the last 
sad offices for their remains. 

Amid sucli melanclioly scenes a merciful Father 
has allowed me to live more than a third of the 
present century. The inhabitants of New Orleans 
have treated me witli a noble and unfaltering gen- 
erosity. I have been familiar in the confidence of 
families of every name and denomination, not ex- 
cepting the Creoles of the Roman Catholic church. 
I have had access to all grades of character and 
condition, in hours of sorrow, misfortune, gloom, 
and despair ; and when the faces of friends grew dim 
around their dying beds, and the outward world was 
receding forever from their view, it has been my 
privilege to point their spiritual eyes to that Re- 
deemer who has conquered death and all our ene- 
mies, who can enable us with joy and composure to 
drink the last bitter cup of mortal grief, and beyond 
the dark and dying struggle has promised at last to 
introduce the race of man to the progressions of an 
eternity, constantly increasing in the freshness, ex- 
tent, beauty, and plenitude of its divine, unimagina- 
ble charms. 

During the period just referred to, my leading 
views concerning Christianity have attracted a con- 
siderable share of public attention. By many per- 
sons they have been much commended ; by some 
they have been severely denounced, as tending to 
give countenance to errors hostile to the dearest 
principles of morality and religion. Both of these 
classes have, in some respects, misunderstood and 
misrepresented my real sentiments. This, in addi- 



Vlll PREFACE. 

tion to the facts mentioned in the preceding para- 
graphs, makes me anxious to place on record a 
short narrative of my teachings, doings, and suffer- 
ings, from the commencement to the close of my 
ministerial career in New Orleans. 

To accomplish such an object it is necessary to 
enumerate some of the antecedents of my earlier 
days in the successive scenes of a New England 
home, school, college, and theological training. It 
may be said further, that I have been repeatedly 
urged within the last few years to write my life by 
several clergymen of different sects, on the ground 
that such a work would afford something of novelty, 
interest, and instruction for readers of every char- 
acter, however diversified by religious faith and 
predilections. Such, in general, are the reasons 
which have induced me to prepare this volume for 
the public. I pray that the offering may go forth 
under the auspices of Him who is ready to help all 
sincere laborers in the field of philanthro]\y ; that it 
may not be entirely useless nor nncdifying to the 
Christian community in general ; and especially that 
it may be read with satisfaction by the numerous 
friends, nortli, south, east, and west, with whom I 
have the happiness to be personally acquainted. 

The reader of these pages will be pleased to bear 
in mind that the author has not attempted to exhibit 
the identical words of the various conversations 
herein recorded, but those which he believes are 
essentially harmonious with what was actually 
spoken. T. C. 

LouiSMLLE, March, 1857. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I, 



PAGE 

My early History. ..... 7 



CHAPTER II. 

College and Theological Studies. ... 17 

CHAPTER III. 

Andover. ....... 32 

License. ...... 43 

Ordination. • . . . . .43 

Settlement in Lexington, Kentucky. ... 43 

Anecdotes in Relation to the First Visit of the Rev. Sylvester 
Lamed to the Valley of the Mississippi. . . .43 

Peculiar Style of his Preaching. .... 47 

1 (1) 



2 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER IV. 

First Trip down the Mississippi. . . . .62 

Walnut Hills. ...... 62 

General Appearance of the Coast. . . . .64 

Character of Stephen Poydras, Esq., the Philanthi'opist. . 66 

Arrival at New Orleans. . . . . .69 



CHAPTER V. 

My First Sermon in New Orleans. . . .83 

Extemporaneous Preacliing. .... 83 

Pecuniary Condition of the Chm-ch at ]Mr. Larned's Death. . 93 
Generous Offer made by Judah Tom-o, Esq., . . 94 

His peculiar Character, . . . . .95 

Admission to the Presbytery of Mississippi. . . 95 

Its Results . .100 

Marriage. . . • • • .113 

CHAPTER VI. 

General Remarks upon the Epidemics which have prevailed 
in New Orleans. . • • • .115 

Asiatic Cholera in the Fall of 1832 and the Summer of 
1833. . ... . . 117 



CONTENTS. B 

CHAPTER VII. 

Change in my Theological Opinions and Style of Preaching. 153 
Liberal Coui-so pursued by the Congregation, -with Respect 

to these Modifications. . . • • .173 

Generous INIanner in which I was treated by my Presbyterian 

and other Trinitarian Brethren in the Ministry. . 175 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Epidemics of 1837 and 1853. . . . .185 

Remarks on the Popular Views as to the Insalubrity of New 

Orleans 187 

The Causes of Yellow Fever, and its Remedies. . . 203 

Its Bearings on the Morals of the Crescent City. . 209 



CHAPTER IX. 

The State of Religion in New Orleans Tliirty-five Years 
ago. . . . . . . . 222 

The Roman Catholic Church of Louisiana. . . 223 

Its auspicious Influence on the Welfare of its Votaries, social, 
moral, and spiritual. ..... 235 

The PecuUar Difficulties which Christianity encounters in 
New Orleans at the Present Day. . . . 246 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER X. 



Symptoms often accompanying the last Stages of the Yellow 
Fever, &c. . . . . . .255 

CHAPTER XI. 

On the Connection between my Religious Teachings and the 
Prevailing Character of the PecuUar Experiences tlu'ough 
wliich I have passed in New Orleans. . . 265 

CHAPTER XII. 

Dangerous Illness. . . . . . .284 

Convalescence. . . . . . .286 

Joiu-ney to Europe. ...... 296 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Incidents of Travel in Europe. . . . .313 

Reflections which a superficial View of the Old World 
awakened in my Mnd. . . . . .321 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Some further Particulars with Regard to my Interview with 
Mr. Carlyle. ...... 345 

Erroneous Impressions prevalent among the wise Men of 
Europe concerning the United States. . . . 356 

The Alps 366 



CONTENTS. 5 

CHAPTER XV. 

Interior of Francfe. ...... 373 

The ilonotonous Aspect of its Scenerj'. . . . 379 

Manner of keeping the Sabbath on the Continent of Europe. 380 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Conclusion. ...... 385 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

OP 

REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 



CHAPTER I. 

MY EARLY HISTORY. 



I WAS born in Easthampton, Hampshire county, 
Massachusetts, on the 29th of March, 1792. The 
place of my nativity is in the far-famed valley of the 
Connecticut River, and is remarkable for the beauty 
of its landscape ; scarcely exceeded by that of Boston 
and its vicinity, as seen from the State House. The 
house in which I lived was adjacent to the church 
and parish school. From my earliest time I can 
remember that both these institutions were zealously, 
if not successfully, employed in developing the higher 
facidties of my nature. Parental example and in- 
struction did all in their power to promote my 
intellectual and moral culture. 

What was the result of all these combined ad- 
vantages ? Did they make the morning of my life 
calm, bright, and beautiful ? Parents and teachers 
watched over and labored for my advancement with 
the utmost assiduity. More kind-hearted, sincere, 

(7) 



8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

and conscientious persons never lived. They, per- 
haps, achieved all that was possible, considering the 
principles upon which my education was conducted. 
This was intended primarily to instil into my mind 
the distinguishing doctrines of Calvinism. In the 
nursery, the school room, and the pulpit I was 
taught " that all mankind, (infants as well as adults,) 
by the fall of Adam, lost communion with God, are 
under his wrath and curse, and so made liable to all 
the miseries of the present life, to death itself, and 
to the pains of hell forever." The fii'st instance of 
death which I witnessed was that of a little brother. 
Standing on the vestibule of life, in the smiles and 
beauty of his innocent age, he was cut down by the 
illness of a few lioui's, — 

"Like some fair flower the early spring supplies, 
That gayly blooms, and e'en in blooming dies." 

He had been my constant companion. I loved 
him as my own soul. It was impossible to realize 
that I should hear his voice and enjoy his company 
no more on earth. In the paroxysms of my grief I 
said to a weeping mother, " Will our dear Loring 
never, never awake again?" She replied, at first, 
only with louder and deeper sobs. It was near the 
sunset of a lovely afternoon, at the close of spring. 
From a window by which the corpse lay was a pros- 
pect of gardens, shrubbery, orchards in bloom, green 
meadows, lofty mountains, and the distant glories 
of an unclouded sun, on the verge of the horizon. 
Pointing to the magnificent scenery, she said, with 
an expression of despair, indelibly impressed on my 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 9 

memory, " Your brother -will never open his eyes 
again to look on me nor you — he will speak to us 
no more — no more listen to the voice of father, 
mother, brother, or sister — no more join in your 
plays — no more see the sun rise, nor hear the birds 
sing." 

Her words fdled my heart with unutterable feel- 
ings of desolateness and sorrow. Not a syllable was 
said with respect to that better world beyond the 
mysterious grave, where surviving relatives and 
friends may hope to meet the loved and lost, and 
take them again to their everlasting embrace, on the 
beautiful shores of a land immortal. For though 
she firmly believed in heaven, her creed made the 
question an awful, heart-rending uncertainty — 
whether she was destined at last to embrace all her 
children there — 

" There ever bask in uncreated rays, 
No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, 
While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere. 

Next morning the funeral was solemnized. The 
officiating clergyman, in the course of his remarks, 
observed, that in every instance death was caused 
by man's disobedience to the divine command, and 
should be considered in tlie case of children, who 
died before they were capable of actual transgres- 
sion, as a just punishment for that hereditary guilt 
and depravity transmitted from our first parents to 
all their posterity. " The sinfulness of an infant," 
said he, " that is not old enough to do a wrong act 
itself, consists in the guilt of Adam's first sin, the 
want of original righteousness, and the corruption 



10 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

of his whole nature." " We might hope," he added, 
" that the benefits of the atonement would be extend- 
ed to the millions who go to the grave in the period 
of infancy ; but God, in perfect consistency with in- 
finite justice and holiness, might have left all man- 
kind, without an exception, to perish forever in that 
state of sin and misery, which flowed inevitably 
from the first act of transgression committed in 
paradise." 

Such were the ideas which the original teachings 
of beloved parents and venerable ministers impressed 
on my mind. All the subsequent instructions that 
were given me on this momentous theme, by my 
superiors in age and wisdom, were of an import 
equally gloomy and preposterous. No inconsider- 
able part of all the preaching to which I listened in 
my youth went to show, that mortality, weakness, 
pain, the countless forms of disease, sick rooms, 
death beds, graveyards, hospitals, the shroud, coffin, 
and tomb were the necessary, inevitable conse- 
quences of the first sin. I was even taught that an 
incensed Creator manifests his wrath in the volcano, 
earthquake, flood, storm, thunder and lightning ; 
the excesses of heat and cold ; sterility of soil ; 
bleak, rocky wastes ; briers, thorns, and thistles ; 
poisonous plants and reptiles, and all other objects 
in nature that are the sources of pain and fear to 
our misguided and unhappy race. 

These melancholy views of human life were most 
cordially and fully received, without even a suspicion 
that they could be fallacious. For they were infused 
into, what appeared to my unformed judgment, the 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 11 

embodiments of the most sacred, sublime truths — 
into prayers, public and private, sermons, conversa- 
tion, books, the interpretations of Scripture, and 
all the religious literature around me. They had 
been handed down, I was told, by nearly all the wise 
and good of former generations. I could not doubt 
their reality. True, they were so repulsive that I 
kept them out of sight as much as possible ; but, in 
spite of my efforts, they would obtrude themselves 
upon my mind often enough to darken and imbitter, 
to a serious extent, each passing day. They hung a 
cloud upon the serene and bright morning — tho 
unutterable .beauties of early dawn — the various 
and ever-renewed wonders of heaven above and earth 
beneath, which were given to kindle and nourish in 
the soul even of childhood a deep, joyous sense of 
the constant presence of that great Father, in the 
plenitude of whose infinite life, light, truth, love, 
wisdom, power, and beneficence, we shall move and 
have our existence forever. 

I am almost afraid to utter my real sentiments, 
lest it might expose me to the charge of being un- 
charitable to those who difier from me in theological 
opinions. I fully believe that if all children living 
could be enabled to see God as he really is, — un- 
veiled and unperverted by the false lights in which 
his character is too often presented, — could they, 
from the beginning, be led up to a correct perception 
of the true nature and principles of his government, 
as revealed by Jesus, they would almost spontane- 
ously resist temptations to sin and folly, and cleave 
with an unfaltering trust to the infinite One, as the 



12 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

little infant does to the bosom of its fond mother. 
They would not dream that a real evil could, by any 
possibility, be inflicted upon the objects of his love 
and care. 

Indeed, children should be early initiated into the 
certainty of suffering a just punishment for all the 
wrong which they may commit ; but, at the same 
time, they should be carefully taught the doctrine, 
that punishment is only one of the innumerable forms 
under which boundless Love has been pleased to 
make a revelation of his will and character ; that it 
is one of the strongest proofs of his infinite, everlast- 
ing, and immutable purpose to bring back all sin- 
ners, finally, to the paths of peace and holiness. 
Make a child believe that our heavenly Father can 
hurt him, or allow him, by any evil whatever, to be 
seriously and forever injured, and from that moment 
he becomes incapable, even, of that highest love for 
the Supreme, which, as our Saviour teaches, consti- 
tutes the essence and glory of evangelical faith. 

In New England, generally, at the period I am 
referring to, the first impression which children, 
almost without an exception, received of God, was 
that of a Being from whom they had less to hope, 
and more to fear, than from all the wicked men 
and demons in the universe. This impression was 
strengthened by the uniform tenor of pulpit teach- 
ings. Hence religion was set before them, not with 
the bright aspect and radiant smile of a good angel, 
but looking like a fiend, with maniac eye, dishevelled 
hair, wrinkled brow, pallid and emaciated counte- 
nance — her expression that of unrelenting severity 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 13 

— licr hands armed with whips and scorpions, to 
drive us from every beautiful scene of nature into 
rugged and desolate paths, beset with briers and 
thorns, and bordered by impenetrable gloom. How 
can children admire the character ascribed to the 
great Parent, in the general strain of pulpit minis- 
trations. It is a character " that they should not 
love if they could." 

When will the veil of darkness and deformity bo 
removed from the face of the most glorious object 
of contemplation in the universe ? When will re- 
ligion be presented to children with more to cheer, 
animate, and encourage, and less to awe, depress, 
and break down their naturally buoyant and joyous 
spirits ? It is high time that those accents wero 
heard in every nursery, school, and temple of wor- 
ship, which fell so gently and eloquently from the 
lips of Jesus eighteen hundred years ago. 

More than we can imagine do children every 
where need the ministries of a true, hopeful, and 
cheering Christianity, which shall bind them to 
God's throne by the ties of a supreme, absorbing 
love ; draw out their hearts in unreserved confidence 
in the Most High, and forbid even the possibility of 
a fear or suspicion, that they can fail of reaching, 
ultimately, the regions of immortal and bouudless 
good. The young would almost spontaneously 
choose the morally pure and beautiful, were they 
brought up with the certainty upon their minds of 
enjoying a future life, free from sin, pain, sorrow, 
sickness, and death, with the other attendant evils 
2 



14 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

of mortality, in the presence and society of all whom 
they loved on earth. 

It is said that the American savage, when trans- 
ported to England or France, sees nothing in the 
splendid creations of art, and the luxuries of the 
highest civilization, half so dear to his soul, as the 
smoky wigwam, the widely-extended prairies, and 
interminable forests of his native land. This at- 
tachment to the scenes of early life is a universal 
characteristic of humanity, yet it is possessed in very 
different degrees. The barbarian has more of it, I 
believe, than many persons who come into existence 
amid the richest blessings which education and re- 
finement can impart. When I call up before me the 
spot where I drew my first breath ; the beautiful val- 
leys, rivers, hills, ponds, plains, and grand mountain 
scenery ; the old school house, with its thousand 
associations ; the humble church ; its bell, ringing 
the solemn call for worship ; its choir, raising the 
voices of praise ; and above all, that sacred retreat, 
that nursery of my youth, where a mother's warm 
heart and a father's wisdom put forth all their en- 
ergies to guide me in the pleasant paths of knowl- 
edge and honor ; the whole, indeed, to-day presents 
to my mind a picture of surpassing loveliness. 
But it is a loveliness which, during the season of my 
boyhood, I could neither imderstand nor appreciate. 
Not until a later period could I realize the many 
charms of that humble home in which my childhood 
was passed. 

Farther back than memory reaches, I learned to 
spell and read. When my nature panted for free- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 15 

dom, I "was shut up in a parish school, most of the 
day, during two thirds of the year. The one to 
which I was sent was kept in a small, uncomfortable 
building, with narrow windows, unventilatcd, insup- 
portably warm in summer, and cold in winter. In 
such a dungeon, subjected to a routine of irksome 
tasks, unrelieved by maps, charts, diagrams, globes, 
and other aids in the acquisition of knowledge, and 
which make it a pastime to the young, I was placed, 
for the best part of twelve years, to be instructed in 
the rudiments merely of reading, w^riting, arithmetic, 
and grammar. Sunday was the only holiday in the 
week. At sundown each Saturday night, all secular 
labors were brought to a solemn pause. Till the sun- 
set of the next day, we w^ere never allowed to leave 
the house, except to enter the church. In prayers, 
sermons, conversation, and books, heaven was repre- 
sented to us under the symbol of an everlasting 
Sabbath day. What an ingenious expedient to 
make religion appear beautiful to the young, loving, 
and innocent mind ! These, and other things which 
I have no space to enumerate, produced, as I sup- 
pose, a singular anomaly in my personal experience. 
The actual amount of happiness which has fallen to 
my lot, was less in childhood than it is to-day. I 
was not so happy at ten as at twenty. Increase of 
years, and wider experiences, have not contracted, 
but enlarged, the sphere of my enjoyments. I have 
learned to look upon the world, with all its imper- 
fections, in the light presented by the poet : — 

" Cease, then, nor order imperfection name ; 
Our greatest bliss depends on wliat we blame ; 



16 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

Know thy ovm point ; this kind, this due degree 

Of blindness, weakness, Heaven bestows on thee. 

Submit; in this or any other sphere, 

Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear ; 

Safe in the hand of one disposing Power, 

Or in the natal or the mortal hour. 

All nature is but art, unkno^vn to thee ; 

All chance, direction which thou canst not see : 

All discord, harmony not understood ; 

All partial evil, universal good." 



REV, THEODOPvE CLAPP. 17 

CHATTER II. 

COLLEGE, AND THEOLOGICAL STUDIES. 

On the anniversary of my birthday, March 29, 
1810, I commenced learning the Latin grammar, 
under the tuition of a clergyman distingnished for 
his classical attainments and skill in teaching. Pre- 
vious to tliat time, I was acquainted with no lan- 
guage but my vernacular tongue. By the end of 
September of the same year, besides minor selec- 
tions, I had perused, translated, and parsed the en- 
tire works of Virgil, Cicero's orations against Cati- 
line, Sallust, and the Commentaries of Cffisar, among 
the Latin classics, together with the Greek Grammar, 
the Greek New Testament, and the " Grceca Minora," 
which at that time was much used in fitting students 
for college. My preceptor, who had been a professor 
of ancient languages in one of the best universi- 
ties of New England, was pleased to say that I was 
sufficiently acquainted with the writings above men- 
tioned to become a teacher of them in any academy 
or school of the land. He thought my case pre- 
sented a remarkable instance of rapid proficiency, 
and that no person of the same age ever made more 
extensive acquirements in so short a space of time. 
He said, one day, after examining me critically in 
Latin and Greek, " Few men ever possessed an in- 
tellect more ardent and powerful than yours. By 
habits of persevering and systematic exertion, you 

9 * 



18 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

may become entitled to a distinguished rank among 
scholars, and be qualified to defend Christianity 
against the specious errors now openly and ably 
taught by some of the leading clergymen and literati 
of Boston and Cambridge. We require a class of 
ministers to meet the present exigency, who, in 
addition to true godliness and profound theological 
attainments, will be able to gratify their hearers 
with the fascinations of a graceful delivery and an 
elegant style." From that day, I began to entertain, 
at times, serious thoughts of devoting myself to the 
clerical profession. 

I look back iipon the summer of 1810 as one of 
the happiest parts of my early life. The window of 
my study looked out upon a rich natural landscape 
— fields in verdure, gardens, orchards, running 
water, animals grazing, and other objects suitable to 
such a scene. Especially before breakfast and late 
in the afternoon, I used to look away from my books, 
to hold communion with the various forms of na- 
ture ; to enjoy, in sweet repose, the sense of beauty. 
Memory has kept that prospect before my mind ever 
since. To the present day, I delight in its contem- 
plation. 

" For my gayer hours, 
It has a voice of gladness, and a smile, 
And eloquence of beauty, and it glides 
Into my dai-ker musings, with a mild 
And healing sympathy, that steals away 
Their sharpness, ere I am aware." 

Those meadows, those fairly-rounded hills, mean- 
dering streams, waving woods, white cottages, and 
fine buildings, have always been mine, and have 



KEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 19 

actually contributed as much to my real enjoyment 
as if, to use the parlance of law, they had been con- 
veyed to me in fee simple. 

All the essential interests of mankind centre in 
the soul. The poorest man, as well as the rich, 
owns as much of the outward world as images to 
his view the grandeur, loveliness, and perfections of 
God ; as enables him to comprehend the Maker of 
all ; to imbibe the inspirations of his Spirit, to 
attain those noble thoughts and holy affections, 
which are the only source of all the real blessings 
that lie within the compass of time, or within the 
boundless range of future and eternal developments. 
Virtue, heaven, immortality, exist not, and never 
will exist for us, but as they exist in the percep- 
tions, feelings, thoughts of our minds. He is the 
richest and wisest person who sees most of God in 
the outward, physical universe, in the pages of sa- 
cred writ, and in the wonders of his own nature. 
Offices, stocks, monopolies, mercantile gains, sugar 
and cotton estates, lands, freighted ships, and rich 
mines, can do nothing of themselves to awaken those 
sentiments, without which every human soul is dark, 
debased, impoverished, and miserable. 

I cannot remember the time when I did not prize 
opportunities of study more than any other temporal 
blessing, simply because nothing else within my 
reach afforded equal pleasure. It was my ruling 
passion. To most youth there is not a more ab- 
horred exercise than that of committing to memory, 
before the understanding can perceive their use and 
application, the grammatical forms, rules, and prin- 



20' AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

ciples of a dead language. But I never could be 
cloyed with this kind of labor. Strange as it may 
appear, in seasons of relaxation, spontaneously, with- 
out an effort, my mind used to run over the declen- 
sions of the nouns and the conjugations of the verbs 
in the Latin and Greek grammars, with as true a 
pleasure as the poet or musician feels in the prosecu- 
tion of his favorite studies. I was so pleased with 
the story of Virgil's ^Eneid, the naturalness and beau- 
ty of its scenes, and characters, and sentiments, that 
I went through it with an accelerating interest which 
rendered me almost insensible to the toil of master- 
ing language. Occasionally, boys will make their 
appearance on the stage having the same mental idi- 
osyncrasies. It is the natural result of an eternal 
law. Hence it is certain that the ancient classics 
will never sink into oblivion. Let those who have a 
taste for their beauties be gratified. I suppose there 
are persons whose peculiar powers and sensibilities 
of mind qualify them to be more useful, as well as 
happy, in learning and displaying to the world the 
wonders of Greek and Roman literature, than they 
could be in any other department of human activity. 
Those works of genius which the most cultivated 
nations of the earth have concurred in admiring as 
models, for so many centuries, can never be lost. 
They must have been framed by the standard of 
nature : — 



" Unerring nature, still divinely bright, 
One clear, unchanged, and universal light, 
Life, force, and beauty must to all impart, 
At once the source, and end, and test of art." 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 21 

In September, 1811, one year and a half from the 
time my preparatory studies commenced, I was ad- 
mitted into the junior class of Yale College, Connec- 
ticut. One of the gentlemen who examined me 
remarked that I had compressed into the short space 
of eighteen months acquisitions which no young 
man, however vigorous his intellect, should attempt 
to accomplish in less time than four years. The 
fact is, that I had studied hard, from fourteen to six- 
teen hours a day, without any efficient out-door ex- 
ercise. This last want I endeavored to supply by 
taking very little food. I lived chiefly on bread and 
water. Milk I was very fond of, but it operated as a 
narcotic. The carrying out of this programme, 
which I might have foreseen, produced disastrous 
consequences. It reduced me to a skeleton, and 
brought on a complication of alarming ailments. I 
was induced to call in a physician. He prescribed 
abstinence from study, seclusion, and a course of 
medicine. In one hour from the time he left my 
room, I determined, without permission of the fac- 
ulty, to take a journey for my health. Throwing 
the pill box and vial out of the window, at 9 o'clock 
P. M. the same day, I was a passenger in the mail 
stage running from New Haven to Albany. Here I 
wrote to my father, and the president of the college, 
to explain the reasons of an elopement which, in 
their sight, must have seemed mysterious, if not 
criminal. In a few days, kind answers were returned 
to my letters ; I was excused, and encouraged to 
travel on, if it made my health any better. 

Every week I felt stronger as I advanced, and 



22 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

never stopped, except a few days at a time, till I 
reached my home at Easthamptoii, in the autumn of 
1812. For seven months, I had wandered, some- 
times on horseback, sometimes on foot, sometimes in 
a stage coach, wagon, or buggy, through all the 
western and central portions of New York, from 
Albany to Buffalo. Travel, hunting, fishing, rough 
fare, sleeping on the floors of log cabins, fatigue, 
wet, cold, a constant change of scenery, and a suc- 
cession of stirring adventures among those who were 
then considered by many as border ruffians, com- 
pletely metamorphosed my physical condition, and, 
without a particle of medicine, placed me again in 
the full enjoyment of life and health. I have men- 
tioned this item of my experience as illustrative of 
the chief causes of debility, consumption, and pre- 
mature death, among the students of our colleges 
and universities. Had I followed the advice of 
my physician, I could not have lived through my 
junior term. To be sure, I graduated one year later 
in consequence of this excursion ; but it was the 
means of my adopting a system of exercise quite as 
essential to growth of mind as reading and medita- 
tion. During the two last years of my collegiate 
course, and the three devoted to the study of theol- 
ogy, I never failed, in all sorts of weather, to walk 
at least five miles every day, besides spending an 
hour in sawing wood, working in a garden, or some 
other labor equally active and invigorating. Proper 
diet, exercise, sleep, and cleanliness, are the immu- 
table conditions, not only of physical, but also of 
spiritual health. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 23 

A chronological account of my life's progress is 
not required by the purpose of the present work. 
If attempted, it could not be done by my plain, prosy 
pen with sufficient spirit and beauty to interest my 
readers. The object before me is to trace a slight 
outline of those events and incidents only which re- 
flecting persons can look at with pleasure, and I hope 
witli profit, unconnected by the relations of time, or 
cause and effect. The celebrated Walter Scott once 
observed, that in an ordinary ride in a stage coach, 
he never found a man so dull, if a free conversation 
were opened, as not to utter thoughts to him original 
and instructive, which he would have been very sorry 
not to have heard. Were it possible, this record 
should represent experiences, the perusal of which 
would not be less edifying to great and distinguished 
minds than the conversation of illiterate, plain, but 
sincere and honest people in general. 

It is a commonplace remark, that the events which 
determine the course of one's life are controlled by 
some unseen and irresistible power. I shall now 
advert to an item of my personal history that may 
serve as a commentary on the following words of 
Scripture : " Lord, I know that the way of man is 
not in himself; it is not in man that walkcth to di- 
rect his steps." The last year of my residence in 
New Haven, I was much in the society of a class- 
mate by the name of Hopkins. The strongest at- 
tachment grew up between us ; we were never apart 
when disengaged from our studies ; we received the 
nicknames of Damon and Pythias, the story of whose 
friendship will never die, so long as Grecian literature 



24 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

is read and admired. Our class graduated Septem- 
ber, 1814. It was agreed that, after spending a few 
weeks at our respective homes, we should meet and 
journey in company to Litchfield, Connecticut, to at- 
tend a course of lectures in the most respectable and 
systematic law school then existing in the United 
States. In determining to pursue the legal profes- 
sion, wc were guided chiefly by the belief that its 
principles were more congenial to our mental tastes 
and characters, than cither those of medicine or 
divinity. 

Young Hopkins lived about ten miles north of 
Easthampton, on the banks of the Connecticut. He 
wrote that he should pass my father's house in the 
stage on a certain Wednesday. I was ready to take 
my seat with him at the time specified ; but when 
the coach arrived, my friend was not among the pas- 
sengers. The conclusion was, that some trivial cir- 
cumstance had induced him to put off starting for a 
day or two. I waited patiently through the week, 
without seeing him, or hearing from him ; I then 
learned that he had been detained at home by seri- 
ous illness. Immediately I went to visit him. Ho 
received me with much emotion, saying, " My work 
on earth is finished, and in a few hours I shall take 
my departure to 

' That undiscovered country from whose bourn 
No traveller returns.' " 

He was perfectly calm and undismayed at the pros- 
pect of death, about which he conversed with much 
pathos and eloquence. When I bade him the last 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 25 

farewell, with my hand clasped in his, he said to me, 
" that it were in your power to view this world as 
it now appears to mo, from the borders of the grave. 
Were I to recover, and enter upon life again, with 
my present thoughts and feelings, instead of going 
to Litchfield, I should repair to Andover, or Prince- 
ton, and become qualified for the ministry. The 
memory of disinterestedness, of self-sacrificing labors 
for our fellow-beings, and the hope of a glorious 
immortality through Christ, are the only sources of 
peace and support in a dying hour." 

These words sank so deeply on my heart, that I 
could hardly think of any thing else for months after 
his death. They produced a total revolution in my 
views and plans for life. 1 could not realize that he 
had been removed from my presence and society. It 
seemed as if he was still alive, and regarding me 
with a sympathy purer and deeper than ever. The 
unshaken belief that he was a constant witness of 
my doings, was an irresistible motive, prompting me 
to make every endeavor to lead such a life as would 
give him the greatest joy, till permitted by a merci- 
ful Saviour to meet again on the shores of a happy 
immortality. The project of devoting myself to the 
practice of law was abandoned, and in a few weeks 
I commenced the stud^ of theology. 

It might be argued that I acted with entire free- 
dom in choosing a vocation which this beloved friend, 
in his last moments, urged me to embrace. But 
choice is in every instance an effect. This effect is 
always produced by some motive acting on the will. 
To say that I could have made an opposite choice 
3 



26 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

with perfect case, is the same thing as to assert that 
I have power to resist the strongest motives wliich 
can be presented to my mind. In that case, I may 
trample under foot the most powerful inducements 
offered by the Creator himself to persuade me to 
obedience, and, in spite of his almighty will, tread 
the downward path to ruin. It is self-evident, then, 
that the events and circumstances which led me to 
adopt a profession for life, came from God, and ex- 
erted an influence upon my will, which, at the time, 
was as m.uch beyond human control as the winds, 
weather, tides, or seasons. A true philosophy re- 
solves all the differences, both physical and moral, 
which exist among men, into " the will and arbitra- 
tion wise of the Supreme." " I know, Lord, it is 
not in man who walketh to direct his steps." 

I will relate another anecdote bearing upon the 
same point. In the summer of 1821, I spent a few 
weeks at a celebrated watering place in Kentucky. 
At that resort I met a large number of intelligent 
and fashionable people from the principal cities of 
the west and south, and a few from New Orleans. 
Their time was passed in scenes of pleasure, gayety, 
and excess, which I had never witnessed in the staid 
regions of New England. When Sabbath came, a 
discussion took place at the bj^eakfast table, with re- 
gard to the best manner of spending the morning. 
" We cannot," some said, " desecrate the day by 
dancing, cards, and frolic. This would be a trespass 
on the laws of civility as well as the church." The 
company finally concluded, if possible, to have 
preaching ; and the ball room was selected as the 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 27 

only place sufficiently large to afford suitable accom- 
modations. It so happened that I was the only 
clergyman present. I had no written sermon with 
me, nor any kind of manuscript which would answer 
as a substitute. There was no time for premedita- 
tion, nor did I believe it to be in my power to deliver 
an extemporaneous discourse. 

It was with some difficulty that a Bible was found. 
The master of the hotel acknowledged that there 
was none in his possession. Not a person there 
could furnish a copy of the Scriptures, except my- 
self, and that was in the Hebrew and Greek lan- 
guages. To escape from a disagreeable dilemma, it 
occurred to me that I might insist upon the impro- 
priety of using the word of God in an unknown 
dialect. This was done. The argument seemed 
plausible, and for a moment held forth a prospect of 
deliverance. At this juncture the landlady recollect- 
ed that a missionary, travelling through those parts a 
few weeks before, had left some books at the house. 
Among them might be the one which the occasion 
called for. When the servants were interrogated on 
the subject, one of them said that the books had 
been stowed away in the garret. A search was 
made. A Bible was found and laid upon the table at 
that end of the ball room appropriated to musical 
performances. The room was soon filled with a silent 
and attentive audience. There were none in the 
company willing to sing. After a short prayer, I sat 
down in the greatest agitation and uncertainty. 

All at once the thought struck me that I would 
read the first Psalm, and make some remarks on it — 



28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

" Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel 
of the ungodly," &c. A few days before I had read, 
with great attention and delight, Dr. Paley's chapter 
on happiness, in his Moral Philosophy. Its leading 
ideas were fresh in my mind. With their help, and 
that of the Psalm, I was enabled to discuss, very im- 
perfectly, the question. How shall happiness be 
found ? I spoke forty minutes by the clock, and 
though the thoughts of the address were trite, snpcr- 
ficial, and commonplace, it was one of the most 
effective discourses which I ever pronounced, simply 
because it suited the place, the hearers, and the oc- 
casion. 

This address was the primary cause of my settle- 
ment in New Orleans. There happened to l^e in the 
audience two gentlemen of that city travelling for 
health, who were trustees of the Rev. Mr. Larned's 
church, my illustrious predecessor. He had fallen 
in the epidemic of the preceding year. They were 
gratified with my extemporaneous effort, but were 
total strangers to me, and I never saw their faces till 
I became personally acquainted with them the next 
winter, on my first visit to Louisiana. As soon as 
they returned home, and at their suggestion, a letter 
was written to me at Louisville, by which I was in- 
vited to succeed Mr. Larned as pastor of the Presby- 
terian Church in New Orleans. I declined the first 
invitation, and also the second, because I was deter- 
mined to spend my days in Massachusetts. Waiting 
at the falls of the Ohio for the commencement of 
steamboat navigation, which was obstructed by ice 
and low water, I received a third invitation. Li it 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 29 

the trustees proposed my returning to Boston by the 
way of New Orleans, pausing to preach a few ^ah- 
baths for them, long enough to form a partial ac- 
quaintance with the congregation and the place. 
This proposition I was constrained to accept. 

I went on the excursion to the springs just referred 
to, with mucli hesitation and reluctance. It was 
done merely to please some intimate friends, whose 
urgent solicitations overcame my will. The first 
week of my sojourn in New Orleans, I assured the 
trustees that nothing could induce me to stay there 
longer than three months. At the expiration of this 
time I made every effort in my power to get out of 
the city forever. But God is stronger than man, and 
he was pleased to confine me there thirty-five years. 

A power as omnipotent as that which makes the 
sun rise, or rivers descend, shaped the whole course 
of my professional existence and career in New Or- 
leans. One item subtracted, or changed as to the 
circumstances above specified, would have modified 
my destiny, and colored my days with different hues 
for life. If it be asked what cause makes the fortunes 
of one man so different from those of another, the 
only scriptural and philosophical answer is, the icill 
of God. In defiance of my strongest wishes, I was 
compelled to settle in Louisiana. I did not covet the 
allotment. Twenty-five years ago, if any man had 
prophesied that I should one day become a Unitarian, 
tlie reply to his prediction would have been, " Is thy 
servant a dog, that he should do this thing ? " Then 
I shoidd have thought it as likely that I might, at 
some future time, turn pirate, or highwayman, as to 



30 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

become an advocate of liberal Christianity. Either 
contingency would have appeared to me equally 
shocking and improbable. To-day, next to tliat of 
God's existence, the strongest conviction of my 
understanding is a belief in the doctrine of the 
final holiness and happiness of all mankind. And 
the most inscrutable phenomenon within my 0I3- 
servation is that of an intelligent, good man who 
really doubts this great central, sublime truth of 
the gospel. I would also remark that the causes 
which brought about this revolution in my theology 
are as much beyond human volition as the motion 
of the planets. Profoundly do I admire these words 
of tlie Holy Spirit : " It is not in man that walketh 
to direct his steps." Cowper was an Orthodox, Cal- 
vinistic poet, the genuineness of whose piety is uni- 
versally admitted. Hear his words : — 

" God gives to every man 
The fortune, temper, understanding, taste, 
That lift him into life, and let him fall 
Just in the niche he was ordained to fill." 

In another place he writes as follows : — 

" Happy the man who sees a God employed 
In all the good and ill that checker life. 
Resolving all events, with their efFects 
And manifold results, into the will 
And arbitration wise of the Supreme. 
Did not his eye rule all things, and intend 
The least of our concerns, (since from the least 
The greatest oft originate,) could chance 
Find place in his dominion, or dispose 
One lawless particle to thwart his plan. 
Then God might be surprised, and unforeseen 
Contingencies might alarm him and disturb 
The smooth and equal course of his affairs." 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 31 

Yet every man is perfectly free and accountable, 
and deserving of punishment when he does wrong. 
Every man has his own way — so he feels and be- 
lieves — so he actually has. It is equally certaui 
that God has his way in every thing. If he has not, 
then there is something in the universe superior to 
his almighty will. In this case, it may be inquired. 
Is not every man directed by God ? Is he not una- 
voidabhj compelled to do as he does ? Was it not 
impossible for him to do otherwise ? These ques- 
tions cannot be fathomed by philosophy, or theologi- 
cal science. If man were not free in a certain sense, 
he could not be blameworthy nor punishable. Still 
all concede that if he were not a creature of circum- 
stances and influences beyond himself, it would be 
impossible for God " to work in Jiim to ivill and to 
do of his good pleasure^'' and finally conduct him 
to everlasting life. The same Power that overcomes 
the infidelity of one human heart, can overcome 
that of «//, if it be his sovereign pleasure. 



32 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 



CHAPTER III. 

ANDOVER. — LICENSE. — ORDINATION. — SETTLEMENT IN 

LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY. ANECDOTES IN RELATION 

TO THE FIRST VISIT OF THE REV. SYLVESTER LARNED 
TO THE VALLEY OF THE MISSISSIPPI. — PECULIAR 
STYLE OF HIS PREACHING. 

When I Tvas a student in the Tlieological Seminary 
at Andover, Massachusetts, it was my good fortune 
to occupy, for some months, a dormitory in the pri- 
vate residence of the celebrated Dr. Woods, at tliat 
time professor of dogmatic theology in this lar- 
famed institution. I was allowed by the doctor oc- 
casionally to sit with him in his own private study to 
learn my daily lessons. Only one condition was im- 
posed — that I should never interrupt him by asking 
questions when engaged in writing. He treated me 
with uniform kindness, and apparently with great 
confidence. I regarded it as a most enviable privi- 
lege to spend so many of my hours in the presence 
of such an eminent saint and tlieologian. One 
morning, when we were both absorbed in our studies, 
a stranger intruded himself into our presence, to 
solicit advice in regard to some church difficulties 
that had occurred not long before in a town some 
miles distant. On the announcement of his er- 
rand, I instantly rose to leave the room ; but the 
professor told me that I had better stay and go on 
with my labors, else I might not be prepared for the 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 33 

next recitation. After the gentleman had made a 
full statement of his case, Dr. Woods gave substan- 
tially the following, decision. I do not pretend to 
give his precise words. 

" Your friend has indeed grossly violated the laws 
of holiness ; but his misconduct is not generally 
known. It has come to tlie knowledge, you say, of 
but very few persons, who are all friendly to him and 
the church, and are anxious that the scandal should 
spread no farther. 

" Moreover, he is a man of great popularity and 
consideration in the place of his residence. He is 
very rich, and liberal in his contributions to religious 
and charitable societies. By bringing his case pub- 
licly before the church for discipline, you may do an 
irreparable injury, not only to the man himself, but 
also to his amiable, unoffending family. In my 
judgment, no good could possibly accrue from such 
a measure. You had better pass it by with a pri- 
vate admonition, and continue to use his elevated 
position and extensive influence in building up the 
Redeemer's cause in your peaceful and flourishing 
parish." 

After this case was disposed of, a second was pre- 
sented for deliberation. A member of the same 
church had been heard to avow repeatedly his disbe- 
lief in the doctrine of the Trinity. He was in the 
habit of talking against it among his acquaintances. 
True, his moral character was unexceptionable ; nay, 
it was excellent — rich in every virtue that could 
serve to make one a light, charm, ornament, and 
blessing in society. " But," said the doctor, " no 



34 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

matter how good or benevolent ho is ; clislDelieving 
the Trinity, he denies tlie faith once delivered to the 
saints, and is not fit to be the member of a Chris- 
tian church. He should be arraigned for heresy, 
and if he continue contumaciously in error, let him 
be excommunicated." 

The deacon then bade us farewell. During the 
above consultation, my lesson for the morning was 
totally unheeded. Two thoughts had for the first 
time entered my mind. First, a rich member of the 
church, honorable in the eyes of the world, may be 
dissolute with impunity. SeconcUij^ it is not so hei- 
nous an offence to break the seventh commandment, 
as to affirm that there are not three persons in the 
Godhead. Previous to this day, I had supposed that 
those luitJiin were always not only superior in good- 
ness to any persons outside of the church, but were 
also invariably actuated by the principles of unsul- 
lied honor, unswerving truth, and impartial justice 
to all men, without regard to the distinctions of 
wealth, rank, fashion, or office. It was painful to 
give up my long-cherished and implicit faith in the 
spotless purity of ministers and professors of reli- 
gion. 

Dr. Woods not only permitted, but urged me to 
apply to him, whenever I needed assistance in solv- 
ing difficult problems relating to theology, or the 
interpretation of Scripture. A sermon had been 
preached in the chapel, in support of the doctrine 
of plenary inspiration, as it is called, or that the 
original Bible was dictated by the infallible Spirit of 
God — a standard of faith and practice in which there 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 35 

was not a single error — nothing deficient and noth- 
ing superfluous. The assertion was, that not only all 
its thoughts came directly from Heaven, but even its 
words ; that man had no more share, strictly speak- 
ing, in producing the sacred Scriptures, than in cre- 
ating seas, stars, or planets. Human hands, indeed, 
inscribed the words on parchment, but they were 
directed by a supernatural, resistless influence, so 
that it was not in their power to record a syllable 
but what was in accordance with the will of God. 

A suspicion that this view of the subject was un- 
true I had never before entertained for a moment. 
It had been inculcated in my hearing from the nur- 
sery up, by all those whom I listened to as oracles, 
as teachers of indisputable authority. But the ser- 
mon just referred to had the effect to set me think- 
ing and doubting on the subject. Two difficulties 
struck my mind. Was it possible that the disgust- 
ing impurities and horrid imprecations recorded in 
some parts of the Old Testament (for examples, see 
Psalm cix., and twenty-third chapter of Ezckicl) 
should have emanated from a being of infinite love 
and holiness ? Further, it was admitted on all 
sides, that the original manuscripts of the Bible arc 
not in existence. Every copy now in the world 
came from uninspired hands. Into our version, then, 
or any other version extant, corruptions may have 
crept, though its authors were ever so upright and 
careful. 

With hope and confidence, I applied to the doctor 
to relieve me from these painful misgivings. I said 
to myself, It is indeed a glorious privilege to be the 



36 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

member of an institution which can guide the anx- 
ious, inquiring student through the intricacies of 
error, and help him up the mountain of divine trutli, 
" laborious, indeed, at the first ascent, but else so 
smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospects and 
melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of 
Orpheus was not more charming." I thought that 
if I could look at revealed religion aright, it would 
appear to me only beautiful, grand, and harmonious. 
The first objection was met by the remark, that " be- 
cause God is infinite, we are not competent to sit 
in judgment on the morality of his doings. Parts 
of revelation may seem to contravene man's ideas of 
refinement, honor, and rectitude. But God's thouglits 
are not as our tJioug-hts, nor his ways as our icaijs. 
What to the infinite One is fit, proper, and benev- 
olent, may appear to short-sighted, sinful mortals 
deformed, monstrous, unjust, and even malevolent. 
It is enough for us to know that God is boundless 
purity ; therefore, in the blessed volume which he 
has mercifully vouchsafed to indite for our salvation, 
and which is a transcript of himself, there cannot be 
any thing corrupt or unholy. As it came from God, 
every item of it must be Godlike, from the first 
verse of Genesis to the last of the Apocalypse." 

Such was the reasoning put forth to quiet my 
doubts as to plenary inspiration ; to reconcile the 
discrepant, to explain the absurd, and throw a haze 
of moral beauty over passages inexpressibly abhor- 
rent to my natural, unperverted taste and reason. 
Notwithstanding my youth and inexperience, I then 
felt, with all the force of intuition, that if God's sov- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 37 

ereignty were divorced from what we arc compelled, 
by the very constitution of our nature, to regard as 
pure and righteous, then all the dearest interests 
of mankind, for time and eternity, would be afloat 
upon a boundless sea of doubt and peril ; and the 
way wovdd be prepared for baptizing the foulest 
despotism by the name of almighty and infinite 
goodness. . 

The second ol^jection was answered by advancing 
a fixllacy. " True," said the great man, " all the 
Bibles now in the world are but transcripts of an 
original which vanished from the face of the earth 
centuries ago. But from the infinite wisdom of 
God, it follows that he would not suffer a book com- 
posed by himself to fail of accomplishing the end for 
which it was given. It is reasonable, then, to be- 
lieve that the transcribers of the sacred volume, in 
every age and place, have been the subjects of a 
divine influence, qualifying them to set forth God's 
word in the various languages spoken by man, ac- 
cording to its primeval import and genuineness." 

The above instances are fair samples of the so- 
pliistical arguments employed to defend the peculiar 
dogmas then taught at Andover. My desires to find 
tlie trutli were most sincere and intense ; but instead 
of being gratified, they were doomed to constant 
disappointment. Reading and studying the pre- 
scribed books and tlicses only served to thicken my 
darkness and multiply my perplexities. The pro- 
fessor said to mo one day, that my chief difficulties 
undoubtedly arose from the fact that I had not been 
thoroughly drilled in the principles of implicit faith. 
4 



38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

He defined implicit faitli to be " a tnisting- to the 
word or autlwrity of another^ without doubting' or 
reserve, or unthoiit examining' into the truth of the 
thing' itself:' "The doctrine of the Trinity," he 
remarked, " is inexplicable to human reason, and 
fruitless attempts to solve the mystery may unsettle 
one's faith, and plunge him into infidelity." 

But was it not my mission at Andovcr^to investi- 
gate truth, independent of human autliority, creeds, 
and formulas? "No," said Dr. Woods, " your 
proper business here is to learn to read the Bible 
aright, and to receive its plain, undisputed assertions 
with an unquestioning credence, as the oracles of 
God. It is within the legitimate province of reason to 
inquire, ^rs^, whether the Bible is divinely inspired ; 
and secondly, what does it actually teach ? Fur- 
ther than this you cannot go. Reason is not compe^ 
tent to decide upon the philosophy of Scripture. 
We receive tlie teachings of God, however strange 
or incomprehensible they may appear to us, simply 
because we know that he cannot utter an untruth." 

These memorable sayings furnished a clew enabling 
me to escape from tlie labyrintli in which I had been 
long wandering. From tliat day to the present, the 
object of all my researches has been to ascertain 
whether God has actually spoken to the children of 
men in the Bible, and what is the real import of the 
communications therein addressed to us. I have 
stood firmly iipon this platform for tlie last forty 
years. 1 love the original Scriptures ; have read 
them by day, and meditated thereon by night. 

The study of the Bible, according to the most 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 39 

approYcd rules of exegesis, has led me to repudiate 
the theological views wliich were embraced at the 
Aiidover Seminary when I lived there. They liave 
also been repudiated virtually by the great body of 
the New England churches. A milder and more ra- 
tional faith prevails among the descendants of the 
Puritans, than that of their stern, rugged forefathers. 
Genuine Calvinism has died in the Northern States, 
by a necessary and almost imperceptible decay. 
Professor Stuart, of Andovcr, did more, in Ids time, 
to bring about this revolution than Harvard Univer- 
sity and all the Unitarian writings combined. 

The opinion is quite common in the Southern and 
Middle States, that evangelical religion of late has 
suffered an alarming degeneracy among the peo}>le 
of New England in general. These lugubrious 
views are chiefly confined to clergymen of different 
denominations — clergymen, too, most sincere, pious, 
good, and charitable. They sec that some of the 
long-established creeds and forms of our venerable 
ancestors are fading away. Opinions wliich they 
held sacred and essential are now not only contro- 
verted, but denied and trampled under foot, by Uni- 
tarian and other kindred sects. Multitudes look 
upon this deviation from the ways of our predeces- 
sors as the prolific parent of intemperance, libci'tin- 
ism, ])rofanity, desecration of the Lord's day, and 
other abominations. This is not to be wondered at. 
The contemporaries of our Saviour were perfectly 
honest in charging liimAvith the most odious offences 
— irreverence towards God, dangerous heresies, in- 
toxication, breaking the Sabbath, consorting with 



40 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

gluttons and wine bibbers, and preaching doctrines 
which tended to latitudinarianism, and the sub- 
version of all wholesome laws, both human and 
divine. 

I would say to all those clergymen who cherish 
gloomy forebodings about the fate of revealed re- 
ligion, that if you arc sincere in the belief that tlie 
Bible came from God, you cannot consistently enter- 
tain any apprehensions in regard to its accomplisliing 
the ends for which it has been given to the world. 
If a man, wlien gazing upon the sun in its sub- 
limity, as it is sinlving below the horizon, should 
say to you, " I am afraid we shall never see the sun 
again — that it has set to rise no more ; " would you 
not regard him as partially deranged — at least as 
laboring under some strange hallucination ? How 
much more absurd to be afraid lest man's folly and 
delusions shall blot out the uncreated sun of right- 
eousness, tliat illumines the moral universe with an 
eternal radiance ! It is the promise of Jesus tliat 
the gates of hell shall never overthrow the religion 
of the New Testament. It will survive all the vicis- 
situdes to which human society is liable, and demon- 
strate its legitimate claims to that lofty character 
which it assumes, as being not only the glorious, but 
the everlasting- gospel of the blessed God. Wliat a 
low estimate must that man form of Christianity 
who supposes that it can be reasoned, legislated, 
frowned, laughed, or ridiculed out of the world ! 

Churcli history tells us of the rise, decline, and 
disappearance of many denominations that, in tlieir 
day, undoubtedly, were necessary and useful, and 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 41 

represented the highest religious development of 
which their respective votaries were capable. Could 
the admirers of those ancient forms come back from 
that unseen world, where pride, bigotry, and con- 
tention will never be known, they would be able to 
trace scarcely a resemblance between the ecclesias- 
ticism of the present times and that mode of worship 
and teaching to which their prayers, their writings, 
their fortunes, and their lives had been devoted in 
vain. But still, praised be God, revealed religion 
has lost none of its original powers. And though 
all the various sects that flourish in our day were 
swept into oblivion, along with the accumiilatcd 
rubbish carried down by the resistless surge of time, 
Clu'istianity would live on in undecaying bloom and 
beauty. Archbishop Whately says, " Christ did not 
ordain an immutable outward style for administering 
his religion, but left the machinery of its forms and 
rules free, that, by a spontaneous unfolding, they 
might accommodate themselves to the ever-varying 
wants, taste, and progress of humanity. A system 
wanting this freedom and flexibleness would carry 
strong proof in itself that it did not emanate from 
God. Different ages require different modes of wor- 
ship and communion." 

Geologists have proved that our globe, from the 
beginning, has been constantly going through a suc- 
cession of changes, while the principles by which it is 
governed have always remained the same. So it is 
with the church of Christ. In essence, it is the same 
yesterday, and to-day, and forever. Yet it is con- 
tinually manifesting itself in new and higher forms 
4* 



42 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

of glory. The church evinces nowadays her love 
for man in practical reforms never before attempted. 
Think of what is doing among ns for the reforma- 
tion of juvenile offenders ; for the improvement of 
discharged convicts ; for the training of the blind, 
the deaf, and the dumb. Think of those splendid 
palaces, reared for the accommodation of the insane 
and idiotic ; think of the numerous institutions for 
the relief of widows and orphans ; for the benefit 
of seamen ; for the promotion of temperance ; for 
the suppression of war ; to ameliorate the condition 
of prison houses ; and to exalt the state of the de- 
pendent, industrial classes generally. Then we have 
tract societies ; missionary enterprises ; the gratu- 
itous distribution of Bibles and other books ; Sunday 
schools, free libraries, lyceums, &c. ; by which pow- 
erful instrumentalities the truths, hopes, and mo- 
tives of the gospel are so wielded as not only to 
secure the salvation of the young and inexperienced, 
but also, in many cases, to arrest and reclaim hard- 
ened and inveterate offenders. To assert that, under 
such a multiplicity of divine means, — such a rich, 
unprecedented array of appeals and agencies, — our 
people are not advancing in religion and morality, 
is just as absurd as to deny that the happiest system 
of agriculture is adapted to increase the products of 
our fields, or to deny that the best appliances of edu- 
cation tend to promote the diffusion and increase of 
knowledge. No creeds, no forms, are essential to 
practical Christianity, but simply a life of pure, 
humble, and systematic beneficence. The recogni- 
tion of this principle, coeval with Jesus Christ, is a 



REV. THEODORE CLARP. 43 

characteristic of the present age, and a cheering 
proof that we have renounced fables for truth — 
" have left the good old limes far behind, never to 
see them again but in the retrospect of things gone 
by." It is ushering in a brighter era, when Chris- 
tianity will bear, in rich abundance, fairer flowers and 
more delicious fruit than the world has ever yet tasted. 
To me the principles of the gospel are unassaila- 
ble and incomparable. They give us rules, hopes, 
and consolations infinitely beyond the reach of 
human philosophy. Take away this last and only 
prop amidst the wreck of all earthly hopes and pos- 
sessions, and to what shall the departing spirit clhig 
for salvation, as it looks into the grave? It has no 
Jesus to lean on ; it must sink in remediless agony 
and despair. Human reason admires the truths of 
the Christian revelation ; human experience affords 
them her loud and uniform testimony, and they find 
a congenial response in the affections of every noble 
heart. What are these truths ? I would answer, 
in general, the paternity of God ; the brotherhood 
of man ; that true religion consists in piety, purity, 
and disinterestedness, and an existence of immortal 
blessedness for all mankind beyond the grave. 

In October, 1817, license to preach the gospel was 
given me, by an association of Congregational minis- 
ters in my native county. A few weeks previous, I 
had made an engagement to spend a year, in the 
capacity of chaplain and teacher, to a private family, 
in the neighl)orhood of Lexington, Kentucky. When 
I reached the place of my destination, the Rev. Mr. 



44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

Larnccl, my predecessor in the First Presbyterian 
Church, New Orleans, was expected to arrive there 
daily. His fame had preceded him as an eminent 
pulpit orator. On a Saturday afternoon, advertise- 
ments were posted along the streets and public 
places, that he would preach in a certain pulpit the 
next morning, at the usual hour of holding services. 
Long before the appointed time, the house was com- 
pletely filled, and multitudes sought in vain for an 
admission. When he arose, and pronounced the 
text, — "He is the propitiation for our sins," — 
I thought that with such a subject, however ably 
discussed, it Avould be entirely beyond his power to 
answer the excited expectations of the audience. 
But he had scarcely uttered half a dozen sentences, 
before all fears of his failing vanished from my mind. 
I was rapt, elevated, and carried away, in common 
with others, by the charms of his singular and over- 
powering eloquence, s I will present a brief sketch 
of this remarkable sermon. 

He began by saying, that " all acknowledged be- 
cause all felt their need of a Saviour. Your lot, my 
hearers, is cast in pleasant places, and you have a 
goodly heritage ; your city is in the midst of regions 
on which Nature lavishes her richest gifts. You 
have all the comforts and elegances which wealth, 
art, and refinement can bestow. Still the capacious 
desires of yoiir immortal minds are not satisfied, 
because they crave that higher and better good 
which an outward world can neither give nor destroy. 
Jesus came to point our eyes to the only and narrow 
way that leadcth unto life. Your earthly posses- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 45 

sions must perish. You may be great and powerful ; 
magnificent in talents, designs, and achievements ; 
admired, honored, and caressed by your contempora- 
ries. Can such advantages save you ? — 

' The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 

And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 
Await alike the inevitable hour ; 

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.' 

" When vre reflect what human life is, however for- 
tnnato ; wlicn we consider the ordinances and appoint- 
ments, — the sudden alternations of health and sick- 
ness, joy and sorrow ; these indescribable scenes of 
endurance, privation, and bereavement ; these pain- 
ful sunderings of the tics of affinity, friendship, and 
affection that sadden our present existence, — how 
obvious is it that the cross of Jesus is our only hope ! 
For this makes it certain that the works of creation, 
the events of life, and the destinies of a coming 
world, are but the unfoldings of a Father's infinite 
wisdom ; that whatever befalls us between the cradle 
and the tomb, though so strange, inscrutable, and 
trying, is working to issues great and glorious be- 
yond the reach of thought and imagination. Jesus 
came to assure us that the Power which brought 
man into existence is eternal, boundless, uncreated, 
and immutable love — a love that taketh care for 
all ; not one is neglected ; that watcheth over all ; 
that providcth for all ; for infancy, childhood, ma- 
ture years, decrc})it age ; for Avant, for weakness, for 
joy, and for sorrow, in every scene of this or another 
life ; so that all forms of sin and evil shall fmally 



46 . AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

redound to the glory of God, and aid in accomplish- 
ing the unsearchable wonders of redeemhig mercy 
revealed in the gospel. The teachings of Christ 
enable us to say all is good, all is well, all is right, 
and shall be forever. Faith in Jesus, then, is an 
inheritance, a refuge, and a rest for the soul, from 
which the fates and fortunes of a mortal lot cannot 
shake it. 

"The gospel has abolished death, and brought to 
light that spirit-land where the mysteries of earth will 
be explained — the land of brightness and beatitude, 
— tlie land of an immeasurable progress in wisdom 
and glory — where, instead of trials, there will be only 
triumphs ; instead of darkness, the effulgence of an 
unveiled eternity ; instead of the bitter tears of sor- 
row, the beamings of an ever-increasing joy beyond 
the possibility of sin and temptation. ' Thanks be 
unto God for his unspeakable gift.' What is death to 
a true Christian ? It is the hour of release from the 
burdens of mortality ; the hour of reunion with the 
absent loved ones, who have gone before us ; the 
hour when our inherent, irrepressible longings after 
fairer forms of beauty, and more ecstatic degrees of 
bliss than earth affords, will verge to their rich, ever- 
lasting consummation. When I look on that cross, 
illuminated by the radiance of God's own divinity, I 
exclaim, How inexpressibly precious is the light it 
sheds on our dark Avorld, opening a way for all 
mankind through the gloomy shadows of sin and 
sorrow, and through the dark gates of the tomb, to 
the enjoyment of an inheritance incorruptible, un- 
dcfilcd, and imfading ! " 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 47 

I do not pretend to state the exact words of the 
orator on this occasion, but the leading ideas of the 
address, which were indelibly impressed on my 
memory. He did not even allude to the doctrine of 
Clu'ist's death being a substituted punishment, a 
vicarious sacrifice to appease the divine wrath, in 
order to make the salvation of mankind possible. 
Passing by all the unintelligible points of controver- 
sial theology touching the atonement, he presented 
to view a beautiful and striking picture, which need- 
ed only to be looked at to win admiration — a pic- 
ture of man's frail, eventful life from the cradle to 
the grave. The whole audience saw that the por- 
trait was true to nature ; and every one present, in 
spite of his creed, was made to feel that without the 
hopes of the gospel he had no outward prop to lean 
upon, no satisfying source of inward reliance, no 
adequate object for his ever-expanding loves, and 
no asylum to betake himself to in trouble, want, 
peril, sickness, or the final hour. He did not dog- 
matize about Jesus Christ, but produced in the hear- 
ers a profound conviction, that without a Saviour 
they were living in a fatherless and forsaken con- 
dition, poor, benighted, trembling orphans, upon a 
bleak and boundless waste, destitute, deserted, for- 
lorn, and forsaken. The effect was wonderful. 
Tears were shed by those who had never before wept 
at the thought of all that is glorious and all that is 
tremendous in the prospects of immortality. Many 
of those seated in the pews at the beginning of the 
sermon found themselves standing up at its close. 
They performed the act of rising unconsciously. 



48 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

Yet the entire delivery of that powerful discourse 
did not occupy more than thirty minutes. I had the 
honor of sitting in the pew of one of the most dis- 
tinguished orators of Kentucky tlien living, "whose 
son is now vice president of the United States. He 
remarked, on coming out of church, " That was a 
burst of natural eloquence infinitely superior to any 
thing I ever heard l)efore, either in the pulpit, forum, 
legislative hall, or popular assembly." 

No doubt Mr. Larned's sermons were indebted for 
much of their impressiveness to the striking superi- 
ority of his personal charms and accomplishments. 
A head of the most perfect outline ; the fire of ge- 
nius flashing from large, prominent blue eyes ; 
the fine features kindled up with intelligence ; a 
symmetrical and Apollo-like form ; a deep-toned, nui- 
sical, penetrating voice, whose whisper could be heard 
through the largest audience ; and a general mien 
unembarrassed, easy, and natural, at once graceful 
and dignified, — conspired to bestow on him a com- 
bination of natural advantages for speaking impres- 
sively which very few of our race have ever pos- 
sessed. A distinguished statesman, who for many 
years was a meml^er of Congress, and familiar with 
the first of American orators, remarked that " un- 
til he had seen Mr. Larned he had never beheld in 
the human form a perfect union of the sublime and 
beautiful. His statue, if chiselled by the hand of a 
Powers, w^ould be pronounced, by all competent 
judges, to deserve a place among the finest models 
in the galleries of either ancient or modern sculp- 
ture." 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP, 49 

Again, his eloquence was characterized by the 
easy, simple, unstudied manner in which he deliv- 
ered his thoughts. There were no marks of art and 
labor either in what he said or in his mode of say- 
ing it. He did not appear before an audience in the 
air of an erudite, authoritative, pompous divine, 
a formal, ex cathedra sermonizer, but as an earnest, 
affectionate, loving friend, pouring forth the rich, 
glowing, unpremeditated effusions of his heart with 
the fulness and rapidity of a torrent, and with the 
apparent artlessness and simplicity of a child. His 
language was indeed rich and singularly appropriate. 
He was full of metaphors, lively images, and pleas- 
ing allusions ; but they flowed from him without 
effort, and he seemed to speak as he did, in obedi- 
ence to an irresistible impulse, because he could not 
help it. Every one knows that simplicity is the 
crowning ornament of the most effective eloquence. 
It is that dress of nature without which all beauties 
are imperfect, and fail of making a full and complete 
impression. 

The sermons of Mr. Larned were free from the 
parade and dry technicalities of theological science. 
He never manufactured a discourse out of general 
and speculative propositions. He never couched the 
truths of Jesus in abstract metaphysical terms. 
Any child could comprehend his subject, words, ar- 
guments, and illustrations. It is universally admit- 
ted that no trait of good writing or speaking is more 
important than perspicuity. Of what avail the eru- 
dition and reasoning of the preacher, unless he be 
clearly understood ? No ornaments can give lustro 
6 



60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

and beauty to a sermon when its language is ambig- 
uous and its arguments are obscure. 

Mr. Lamed had studied tlie vohuues of the human 
heart and human life more attentively than the sombre 
tomes of school divinity. Hence, though so young, 
lie was enabled, in the happiest manner, to accom- 
modate instructions to the different ages, conditions, 
and characters of the diversified classes composing a 
large, promiscuous audience. Each of those who 
listened to him heard something that seemed par- 
ticularly addressed to himself — exactly suited to his 
trials, temptations, wants, sins, or sorrows. Tliose ser- 
mons are not only most interesting, — most power- 
fully occupy the imagination, — but also the most use- 
ful, which advance what touches a person's habitual 
conduct and cherished principles in every-day life. 
They discover a sinner to himself in a light in 
which he never saw his character before, and which 
awakens within him the strongest desires to be deliv- 
ered from bondage, and raised to a new and better 
state. The object of every sermon should be to 
persuade men to become good ; not to discuss some 
abstruse theory ; to make a display of ingenuity and 
acquirements ; nor to put forth startling novelties, 
but to make the hearers better, to give them clearer 
views, and more profound impressions of divine, 
eternal truths. 

Although the subject of these remarks was en- 
dowed with the strongest sensibilities of soul and 
loftiest powers of expression, he never allowed tlie 
impetuosity of his feelings to transport him beyond 
proper limits. The ardor of his genius never divert- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 51 

ed his attention from the point of discussion, nor 
betrayed him into any improprieties of look, man- 
ner, or expression. His friends never had occasion 
to remark, after leaving the church, that their pastor 
in the unconscious fervor of the moment, had ut- 
tered some imprudences, which an enemy or stranger 
might turn to his personal disadvantage, or to the 
detriment of the glorious cause which ho espoused. 
This close attention to argument and propriety of 
words, this self-command, this supremacy of rea- 
son, this undeviating attention to the decorums of 
time, place, and character, amidst the loftiest strains 
of eloquence, was one of the most captivating and 
persuasive charms of his pulpit exercises. 

The manner of speaking, whose most prominent 
traits have just been specified, is, in the strictest 
sense of the phrase, a gift of nature. One could no 
more acquire it by art and study than he could raise 
the dead, or arrest the planets in their course. He 
on whom it has been conferred speaks with the same 
case with which he walks the ground or breathes the 
air. 

" Some beauties yet no precepts can declare, 
For there's a happiness as well as care. 
Preaching resembles poetry ; in each 
Arc nameless graces which no methods teach, 
And which a master hand alone can reach." 

A perfectly correct, graceful, impassioned orator 
is a phenomenon which the world seldom sees, since 
so many extraordinary natural talents must concur 
in his formation. But most public speakers might 
be instructive and interesting, if they would only 



62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

follow nature, speak in public as they do in private, 
and only when they have proper materials for a dis- 
course, and have previously considered and digested 
the subject. 

We read that " the righteous perisheth and is for- 
gotten." Why ? Because moral greatness is too 
plain, quiet, and unostentatious to become the theme 
and wonder, the gaze and admiration, of those who 
live only for the evanescent possessions and pleas- 
ures of time and sense. The exploits of the soldier, 
though degraded as to moral character, may be bla- 
zoned all over the civilized world, and go down on a 
wave of glory to future times. The pens of learned 
historians, the tuneful measures of the poet, the 
eloquence of orators, the finest creations of the 
pencil and the chisel, have often been employed to 
perpetuate the name and achievements of bad men, 
— oppressors and robbers, — whose lives appear only 
hateful and infamous in the sight of the Christian 
and philanthropist. But after all, clergymen have 
no just cause to be dissatisfied with their peculiar 
condition and allotments. If a minister of the gos- 
pel be sincere and faithful, no matter how poor, op- 
posed, persecuted, or despised he may be, yet he is, 
in reality, among the happiest of our race. His lot 
is preeminently glorious. Amidst the severest trials 
he breathes the atmosphere of an immortal world. 
The " soul's calm sunshine," nobleness of heart, 
large attainments of wisdom, conscious peace and 
virtue pure, open to him the sources of perennial, 
sacred, and constantly increasing bliss. A clergy- 
man who has no taste for his profession must lead a 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 58 

life of degradation and wretcliedness. Of all men 
living, a hypocrite in the pulpit is, perhaps, the most 
mean, odious, and unhappy. 

I remember my intercourse with Mr. Larned with 
peculiar satisfaction. I was personally and inti- 
mately acquainted with him. We were classmates 
at the university for one quarter. Our rooms were 
adjacent, and I saw him every day under all the va- 
rious phases which a collegiate life presents. There 
was a correspondence between us during his resi- 
dence in New Orleans. Tlie last letter which I re- 
ceived from him was written but a few days previous 
to his death. These circumstances, with a deep 
sense of the wonderful superiority of his native ge- 
nius, make me anxious, if possible, by this brief 
notice, to rescue his name from absolute oblivion. 

No man was ever more agreeable in the social 
circle. Though he was a great talker, yet no one 
ever felt in his company that he talked to gratify 
pride or pedantry, or for vain show of any kind. He 
would often charm the listeners who hung on his 
words, and even move them to tears, when he seemed 
quite as unconscious of the power he was exercising, 
as a child engaged in thoughtless prattle with sur- 
rounding playmates. It was often said that he was 
as affable and social among the vulgar, illiterate, and 
profane, as when conversing with more congenial spir- 
its. Yet his conversation was always unexceptiona- 
ble in a moral point of view. A gentleman, travelling 
with him on a steamboat, observed that he conversed 
often with the crew, the deck passengers, and even 
with certain persons who were known to be professed 
5* 



54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

gamblers. Some present thought this freedom was 
very improper in a clergyman. He excused himself 
by saying that all men arc equal in the sight of God ; 
that he felt bound to bo civil and kind to every per- 
son within his reach, irrespective of character ; that 
the most humble and ignorant individual on board 
might communicate to him, if an opportunity were 
offered, some fact or item of experience which would 
suggest useful thoughts for the discourse which he 
expected to preach the next morning. It was a noble 
observation, and the practice that it implied doubt- 
less contributed materially to increase his knowledge 
of human nature, and the uncommon skill which he 
displayed in touching the sensibilities of those whom 
he addressed. How often are the piety and learn- 
ing of clergymen absolutely inefficient from their 
want of a thorough knowledge of men, and a more 
extensive acquaintance with the world ! 

Whilst in New Orleans, Mr, L. was in the hal)it of 
receiving visitors as guests at the breakfast or dinner 
table. This was done to save time. In this manner 
he formed an acquaintance with a large circle of gen- 
tlemen, both Americans and Creoles, belonging to 
other denominations. On one occasion the Catholic 
clergy of New Orleans, in a body, partook of his 
hospitalities. It is thought by many that his out- 
door influence did more good than all his labors in 
the pulpit. Although his susceptible and finely attem- 
pered constitution was so social in its tendencies, — 
although he was so youthful, l)uoyant in spirits, full 
of the sallies of wit, humor, and anecdote, — yet he 
always maintained inviolate the dignity and propri- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 65 

etics of the clerical vocation. No one ever accused 
him of saying or doing any thing unbecoming the 
character of a clergyman. 

When Mr. Larned was only eighteen years of age, 
he had occasion to journey from Pittsfield, Massa- 
chusetts, his native town, to Albany, New York, in 
the stage. On the way, a lively conversation was 
kept up among the passengers, on a great variety of 
topics. At the hotel where they stopped for the 
night, an English traveller of the highest intelligence, 
inquiring the name and profession of Mr. L., ob- 
served, " Among the persons of all countries whom 
I have seen, that young man shines most in conver- 
sation, and possesses the greatest powers of elo- 
quence." Such was the impression which he uni- 
versally made on educated men of every name and 
nation, Avho came within the reach of his fascinating 
powers. 

One of the attendant physicians of the Charity 
Hospital, who was living when I first went to New 
Orleans, told me that during the awful epidemic of 
1820, Mr. Larned almost daily visited that institu- 
tion, up to the very week of his death. He passed 
much of his time in the abodes of sorrow, want, and 
bereavement. In him the widow and orphan, the 
sick and forsaken, the destitute stranger and seaman, 
the tenant of the hospital, and the criminal chained 
down in his dungeon under sentence of death, found 
a warm-hearted, efficient friend. In the epidemic of 
which he was a victim, August 31, 1820, he called 
on the church treasurer one morning for pecuniary 
assistance, saying that his means were exhausted, 



56 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

and nothing appeared to him more inconsistent than 
to pray for the sick and dying, withont furnishing 
them with the snppUes whicli their physical wants 
demanded. To a physician who urged him to flee 
from the destructive pestilence, he said, " I may lose 
my life by staying here this summer, but I cannot 
leave without violating my most imperative convic- 
tions of duty. Death does not seem so great an 
evil as that of deserting my post to escape the yellow 
fever." Was there ever a more beautiful oifering 
laid on the altar of benevolence, religion, or patri- 
otism ? 

When I reflect upon the charms of the character 
but faintly sketched in the above remarks, its unsid- 
lied honor, unswerving truth, and unflinching faith- 
fulness, its noble, self-sacrificing, disinterested, and 
magnanimous spirit, I feel how unfounded and un- 
just is the sneering, disparaging insinuation of the 
sceptic, that there is no reality in virtue ; that it is but 
a pleasing fiction, a poetic dream. I thank Heaven 
that the light of heroism and religion has shone 
more or less brightly on all the preceding genera- 
tions of men. It is my happiness to believe that 
goodness exists in every latitude and longitude ; 
tliat every where througliout the wide field of hu- 
manity, tlie roses of virtue bloom ; that in every 
community are those who are good because they love 
goodness ; good in the inmost recesses of their hearts, 
good in their most retired and secluded hours, when 
no eye but that of the Omniscient beholds them. 
Yes, there are hearts in the worst neighborhoods on 
the banks of the Mississippi, and among the rufhans 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 57 

(to use the parlance of the day) on our border set- 
tlements, whose sympathies are warm, generous, and 
noble. In every class of my fellow-beings, for the 
last forty years, I have met persons enamoured of the 
charms of moral excellence. I have found those 
who, though poor and illiterate, born and reared 
beyond the sphere of church influences, manifested 
in their daily deportment the forgiving spirit of the 
gospel, (the sublimest form of holiness;) who, amid 
scorn, insult, injuries, and misrepresentation, ex- 
pressed neither in the countenance, nor by words, 
nor by actions, the principles of scorn, hatred, or 
retaliation. I have seen mothers grow more kind, 
gentle, subdued, and forbearing, in proportion to the 
unfaithfulness, the cruel neglect, and unthankfulncss 
with which they were treated by the members of their 
own households, partners and children. Every day 
have I been struck with the proofs, not of man's na- 
tive corruption, but of his original rectitude and 
glory. God made human nature. If it docs not 
work out the results whicli he intended, must he not 
look upon mankind with feelings of sorrow and dis- 
appointment ? 

Tuesday succeeding the Sabbath on which ]\Ir. 
Lamed delivered the discourse which has been al- 
ready described, I rode with him from Lexington to 
Frankfort, the capital of the state. After our arri- 
val, he was invited to preach the same evening, at 
seven o'clock, before the legislature of Kentucky. 
In this body were several gentlemen whose names 
had been famous throughout the Union, and who 
had been representatives and senators in Congress. 



58 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

The news of his successful effort at Lexington had 
reached the place before him, and raised high expec- 
tations. When Mr. Larned arose to read the hymn, 
a person who sat near me said, " If tliat boy can 
utter any thing about religion to enchain the atten- 
tion of this thoughtless, ungodly crowd, I shall con- 
fess indeed that he is a prodigy of eloquence." 

When Mr. Larned announced his subject, it 
seemed to me most unsuited to the place, hearers, 
and occasion. These words were his text : " He 
that believeth on the Sou of God hath the 'witness in 
himself.'''' The topic discussed was, the evidences of 
Christianity — a topic presenting a vast, boundless 
field of thought. How could he even enter upon it, 
I said to myself, in the short space of a single ser- 
mon ? After I went to my room, I made the follow- 
ing memoranda in my note book, giving not so much 
the exact words of the discourse as its leading 
thoughts. " Not one person in a hundred thousand," 
said the orator, " has the mind and means, books 
and leisure, requisite to investigate the truth of the 
Bible upon logical principles. But there is one way 
by which all, however weak and unlettered, may 
arrive at satisfying convictions on this subject, with- 
out examining the external proofs, documents, and 
objections appertaining to the divinity of the Scrip- 
tures. 

" Is there one in this audience who has doubts as to 
the heavenly origin of Christianity ? Act upon the 
platform of the text, and your unbelief will grad- 
ually and imperceptibly give way, as the bright and 
balmy effulgence of morn dispels the mist and dark- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 59 

ness of night. When you rise from your bed to- 
morrow morning, read a few verses of the Sermon 
on the Mount, or some devotional part of the Old 
Testament ; then, kneehng down, offer to Heaven a 
sincere prayer tliat you may be guided through the 
trials, duties, and perils of the day by the spirit and 
principles of what you have just read in his word. 
Go forth, and act as nearly as you can in conformity 
with your matin orisons. Do this with all your soul 
every day forward, and before the expiration of the 
present year you will have imbibed unconsciously 
the elements of a true religious faith. You will feel 
the divinity of the Bible, though you may not be 
able to argue the question with the sceptic. ' With 
the heart man believeth unto salvation.' Praying 
sincerely, and acting accordingly, will cause your 
soul to be warmed with the beams of a Creator's 
love. 

" You will then ' have the witness in your own 
bosoms,' that revealed religion is a celestial, refresh- 
ing stream from the inexhaustible Fountain of life. 
In this way, you may acquire a faith of a more ada- 
mantine firmness, a more intimate and unwavering 
conviction, than any variety or amount of reading, 
study, and scholastic attainments could inspire, un- 
accompanied by prayer and a good life. There is 
no royal road to heaven. The king and his sub- 
jects, the noble and ignoble, the wise and the ig- 
norant, the master and the slave, can commune 
"with God, and feel his inspiration, only as they lead 
prayerful, humble, just, pure, and conscientious lives. 
As to the unspeakably important subject of personal 



60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

religion, the decisive question is not, What are your 
thoughts, researches, philosophy, or creeds ? but, 
What are your lives ? Only those who do the vs^ill 
of God can have true faith in him. This evening, 
you have, perhaps, youth, bloom, friends, opulence, 
power, and all that a worldly taste most covets. But 
reflect, I beseech you, how soon these shadows must 
vanish. When the days of darkness shall arrive, 
when affliction and bereavement shall sink down like 
an incubus upon your hearts, when the stern reali- 
ties of life shall have scattered your visionary hopes, 
— and that time must soon come, — you will be the 
victims of unrelieved gloom, misgiving, and despair, 
unless sustained and soothed by an unfaltering trust 
in that almighty, infinite, eternal, and unchanging 
love, revealed in the person, mission, teachings, mir- 
acles, death, and resurrection of the Son of God." 

These thoughts were recommended by all the 
charms of a natural, easy, graceful, dignified, and 
solemn manner, pronounced with tones and varia- 
tions of voice clear, full, and melodious as the 
strains of the richest music. 

This sermon was but twenty-five minutes in length. 
It is impossible to describe the effect it produced. It 
was a universal observation, " We never heard any 
thing like that from the pulpit before." The remark 
was strictly applicable to my own feelings. Indeed, 
Mr. Larned gave me new ideas about the best mode 
of preaching. I learned from him the utter worth- 
lessness of mere doctrinal, controversial sermons. 
He delivered two addresses on topics concerning 
which there is the greatest diversity of opinion in 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 61 

the Christian world ; yet in these sermons he did 
not so much as alhidc to any of the popular dogmas 
of the day. One could not have divined, from any 
thing which he said, to what particular sect he 
belonged. His appeals embraced only truths that 
are undisputed and indisputable — truths that strike 
a chord which God has strung in every human heart. 

I have been a traveller in the old world. It left 
upon my soul an impression of mighty things, which 
will forever remain in my mind — the ineffaceable 
images of grandeur. I have crossed the Alps, and 
looked down upon those lovely vales that derive an 
increased beauty from the stupendous objects around 
them. I have seen the glories of Europe — its cities, 
palaces, castles, cathedrals, gardens, and galleries of 
art. But none of these objects do I remember with 
as deep emotions of wonder, admiration, and delight, 
as the preeminent genius, and the noble, disin- 
terested conduct, of that young, fearless missionary, 
who laid down his life to add another church to the 
temples of the living God in New Orleans. 

Mr, Larned entered Williams College, in his na- 
tive state, when only fourteen years of age. He 
studied theology at the seminaries of Andover and 
Princeton, and commenced his professional life in 
the spring of 1817, being about twenty years of age. 
He died on the 31st of August, 1820, — a victim of 
the yellow fever, — in the morning of life, and to 
human view, just entering iipon a brilliant -and use- 
ful career. 



62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 



CHAPTER IV. 

FIRST TRIP DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI. — WALNUT HILLS. — 

GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE COAST. CHARACTER 

OF STEPHEN POYDRAS, ESQ., THE PHILANTHROPIST. 

ARRIVAL AT NEW ORLEANS. 

In the winter of 1821, I left Louisville for New 
Orleans, to preach a few weeks, as I have before 
mentioned, in the pulpit of the First Presbyterian 
Church, which had been vacated by the death of ]\Ir. 
Larned. The waters were high, and the steamboat 
on which I embarked moved with great speed. In 
less than a week I was wafted beyond regions where 
the ice and snow still held dominion, into the tem- 
perature, verdure, fragrance, and beauty of spring. 
The effect of such a sudden transition was enchant- 
ing. On the borders of the river we saw but one 
small town, (New Madrid,) between the mouth of 
the Ohio and Warrenton, in the State of Mississippi. 
Just before reaching this place we were cheered with 
the green tops of the Walnut Hills, where Vicksburg 
now stands. They were then beautiful and rich 
eminences, covered with an abundance of those trees 
whose name they bear. It was not till some years 
afterwards that the first house was erected on these 
bluff's. 'To-day it is the site of a large commercial 
city, from which vast quantities of cotton are shipped ; 
whose broad streets, handsome public buildings, and 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. (58 

numerous churches, show that its inhabitants are 
intelligent, refined, opulent, and liberal. 

In the rear of this city, the country is rich and 
beautiful, the hills crowned with neat houses, the 
valleys and plains presenting a landscape of almost 
continuous and highly-cultivated plantations. In 
New England, many persons think that this part of 
the south has a pojjulation almost semi-barbarous 
— characterized by lawlessness, profanity, desecra- 
tion of the Sabbath, gambling, intemperance, and 
deeds of sanguinary violence. This impression arose 
from the setting up of a few isolated instances of dis- 
order and bloodshed, which found their way into the 
newspapers, and sent a thrill of horror throughout 
the Union. I have travelled extensively in the 
State of Mississippi, and can testify that, all things 
considered, — the lateness of its admission into the 
confederacy, the various disadvantages and hindcr- 
ances in the progress of a frontier settled by an aggre- 
gation of adventurers from all quarters of the civil- 
ized world, — it is not inferior even to Massachusetts 
or Connecticut in the manifestations of moral excel- 
lence, truth, honor, justice ; a patriotism willing 
to die for the land it loves ; a philanthropy that is 
ready to pour out its treasures and its life for the 
common weal. 

Here we began to discover the magnolia grandi- 
flora, an ever-verdant laurel, with its thick, soft, dark 
foliage and fragrant flowers, which do not put forth 
at once, but bloom in succession for a long time. 
It was delightful, after having passed through an 
unbroken, inundated wilderness for nearly eight 



64 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

hundred miles, to come suddenly into the climate of 
the palmetto or fan palm, the China tree and ca- 
talpa, the wild honeysuckle and jessamine. Here, 
in the month of March, the wild wood displays such 
a variety of flowers of every scent and hue, that the 
gale is charged with fragrance, as if wafting odors 
from " Araby the Blest." On our left hand was an 
almost uninterrupted line of bluffs, between two and 
three hundred miles, commencing at Walnut Hills 
and terminating at Baton Rouge ; either bounding 
the river, or receding far enough from the shore to 
afford bottom lands, which have long since been con- 
verted into luxuriant, widely-extended cotton planta- 
tions. They have an endless variety of figure, and 
are crowned with beech, hickory, and holly trees. 
Even to this day, the traveller beholds no dwellings 
on these finely rounded eminences, because, in the 
apparently salubrious breezes of summer, by which 
they are fanned, there lurks a malaria mucli more 
noxious to health and life than that which hangs 
over the low, swampy lands at their bases. 

On the right hand shore was the same forbidding 
scenery that had filled our entire horizon for several 
days — impervious, tangled, sunken, interminable 
forests ; the crape, the funereal drapery of long moss, 
completely covering the branches, and sometimes 
the whole trunks of the trees ; boundless ranges of 
cypress, live oak, and malaria — the favorite haunts 
of alligators, moccason snakes, mosquitoes, and other 
nameless, most abhorred species of animated nature. 
I said to myself. If there are '■'• fauces orcV^ — an en- 
trance to the lower world — in our country, it must 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 65 

be somewhere in these dismal, marshy tracts, more 
hateful than the fabled Styx of Grecian mythology. 
Now, after a lapse of thirty-five years, — in ascending 
or descending the river, — yon see on the same shore, 
every two or three miles, a splendid plantation, with 
the usual appurtenances. When a stranger inquires 
the use and object of a cluster of little buildings — 
neat white cottages lying about the principal house 
— he is told that they are the habitations of the 
laborers. There tlie negroes live in separate fami- 
lies. Each of them has as good a dwclhng, furniture, 
table, and other physical accommodations, as the 
great body of laborers in the free states. True, they 
are not as elevated in the scale of intelligence and 
enterprise ; if they were, they woidd not be slaves. 
It is not in the power of man to meliorate their con- 
dition so long as their intellectual and moral devel- 
opment remains unchanged. 

A little below the city of Natchez, on the western 
shore, commences that artificial mound of earth called 
" the levee," of considerable elevation, and extend- 
ing down to the neighborhood of the Balize. Were 
it not for these mounds, the rich, beautiful, and pro- 
ductive strip of soil, called " the coast," would be 
annually inundated and incapable of cultivation. 
The word coaat is used to designate the land border- 
ing the Mississippi River, for two or three hundred 
miles above its mouth. At Point Coupe, the coast 
commences wearing the aspect of a country which 
has long been beautified by the plastic hand of 
skilful agriculture. Here, too, you begin to see 
extensive orange groves, intermingled with the wide- 
6* 



66 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

spreading and verdant branches of that venerable 
tree, the live oak — the monarch of southern for- 
ests. Here, too, you see that magnificent plant, 
which the French call " peet," with its foliage per- 
fectly green during the winter, and the extremities 
of its leaves terminating with thorny points. 

In this village, our attention was directed to the 
mansion of Stephen Poydras, Esq., a gentleman wlio 
was alike distinguished for his wealth, personal ex- 
cellence, and public charities. Good people, I said 
to myself, must live all over the world ; for they are 
found here in the midst of an old settlement of 
French Catholics and slaveholders, where a Protestant 
minister was never seen, and where the Catechism of 
the Westminster Assembly of divines was never 
taught. With this gentleman I became intimately 
acquainted. A more pious, upright, self-denying, 
humble, generous man never lived. He was every 
whit as good as the late Amos Lawrence, of Boston, 
and quite as charitable. But has the name of Poy- 
dras been blazoned through our land ? Did any one 
ever pronounce his eulogy in Faneuil Hall, or in any 
of the New England pulpits ? 

0, no ; he was a Frenchman and a slaveholder. 
" Can any good thing come out of Nazareth ? " Yet, 
in every respect, Poydras was not inferior to the 
greatest of those philanthropists whose lives have 
shed such an undying lustre upon the land of the 
Puritans. He endowed an orphan asylum in New 
Orleans, which will bear down his name forever. It 
is called after him. It was the only institution of 
the kind in the city in 1821. In the dreadful epi- 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 67 

demic of the succeeding year, it took in liimdrcds 
of destitute orphans, tliat might otherwise have per- 
islied. He gave the proceeds of a very handsome 
property, amounting, I beUeve, to twenty thousand 
dollars per annum, to be distributed in marriage por- 
tions to a number of poor girls in the parish of Point 
Coupe and the adjoining parishes. He gave, in par- 
ticular, a rich endowment to the school of the dis- 
trict where he lived, besides various other magnifi- 
cent charities, which I have not space to mention. 
Let the really great have their names written on 
pillars more durable than brass, — 

'* Higher than pyramids, that rise 
With royal pride to brave the skies ; 
Nor years, though numberless the train, 
Nor flight of seasons, wasting rain. 
Nor winds, that loud in tempests break, 
Shall e'er their firm foundations shake." 

All the material glories of earth will one day van- 
ish " like the baseless fixbric of a vision." The ele- 
ments will waste even the marble of our tombs, and 
our worldly achievements be lost in everlasting for- 
getfulness ; but those beneficent deeds by which we 
kindle smiles on the face of helpless orphanage, 
decrepit age, or indigent manhood, — by which we 
impart wisdom to the erring, give light, encourage- 
ment, and consolation to those who are sinking be- 
neath the allotments of a mysterious Providence, — 
will never die. Instinct with the spirit of a divine 
life, they Avill cross the theatre of time, and the gulf 
of death, and grow more beautiful through the 
countless ages of an unending existence. 



68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

Below Point Coupe, the banks on both sides of 
the river are uniform. The levee is continuous. 
The cultivation of cotton, rice, and sugar cane is 
regular and universal. The breadth of the cultivat- 
ed lands is generally two miles — a perfectly uniform 
strip, conforming to the shape of the river, and every 
where bounding the deep forests of the Mississippi 
swamp with a precise line. For two hundred miles, 
plantation touches plantation. I have seen in no 
part of the United States, not excepting the Connec- 
ticut River, a more ricli and highly cultivated tract 
of the same extent. It far exceeds that on the banks 
of the Delaware. Noble private residences, massive 
sugar houses, neat villas, and numerous negro quar- 
ters succeed each other in such a way that the whole 
distance has the appearance of one uninterrupted 
village. The mansion houses are spacious and airy, 
some of them costly and splendid, situated in the 
midst of orange groves and pretty gardens, in which 
abound the delicious cape jessamine, miiltitudes of 
altheas, bowers of the multifiora rose, and a great 
variety of vines and flowering shrubs peculiar to this 
climate of perpetual verdure and loveliness. The 
fields, the gardens, the fine houses, the sugar man- 
ufactories, &c., apparently move past you as you 
descend, like the images in a magic lantern. 

You see, too, that this whole region is not destitute 
of the forms and institutes of Christian worship. 
The Catholics have numerous churches along the 
coast, and the spires, seen at the intervals of every 
six or seven miles, cheer the eyes of all who are not 
sceptics or bigots. Emerging suddenly from the 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. CO 

sombre, sunken, moss-clad scenery of the Upper Mis- 
sissippi into these enchanting regions of cultnre, 
wealth, and beauty, I Avas greatly excited. 

On a beautiful morning near the close of February, 
^we were landed at Lafayette, where the boat stopped 
to discharge a part of her cargo, about three miles 
above New Orleans. The passengers, impatient of 
delay, concluded to walk to the city. Leaving the 
levee, we took a circuitous route through unenclosed 
fields, which a few years before had belonged to a 
large sugar plantation. They were adorned with a 
carpet of green grass, where herds and flocks grazed 
in common. Here and there we passed a farm house 
in the midst of gardens, luxuriant shrubbery, and 
orange groves. The fruit was thickly scattered along 
the ground, like apples in the orchards of New Eng- 
land, when autumn pours forth her ample stores. 
The air wtis cool, inspiring, and scented with the 
blowers of early spring. The music of the thrush, 
and various other species of singing birds, saluted 
our ears with their sweetest notes. All things, as 
far as our eyes could reach, seemed like a paradise. 
These suburbs, then so radian^vith rural charms, 
are now the site of a large portion of the buildings 
belonging to New Orleans, and contain, at the lowest 
computation, eighty thousand inhabitants. 

With the beautiful and soothing sensations which 
such a morning and such scenery naturally awaken, 
my fu'st entrance was made to the metropolis of 
Louisiana. I was cordially welcomed, and well pro- 
vided for. The trustees formally waited upon me in 
a body. They struck me as being remarkably line- 



70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

looking gentlemen, with polished manners, and well- 
informed, but so cheerful, easy, natural, and agreea- 
ble in their conversation, that I concluded at once 
that they were not communicants of the Presbyterian 
church. In the course of our interview, I asccr- • 
tained that such Avas indeed the fact. Not one of 
the number was a Creole of New Orleans. They 
were immigrants from various quarters of the Unit- 
ed States and Europe, who had been led to unite in 
establishing a church for Mr. Larned, not to gratify 
any sectarian preferences, but to enjoy the society 
and teaching of one whom they admired for his per- 
sonal qualifications only — his extraordinary genius, 
learning, and eloquence. They were so enthusiastic 
in their praises of my predecessor, that I not only 
despaired of being able, in any tolerable manner, to 
fill liis place, but I felt that it would be presumption 
to make even an attempt to address an audience that 
had been accustomed to such an elevated style oft 
pulpit exercises. I told them plainly that such were 
my feelings, and Ijcgged them to excuse me from 
preaching at all. T^o of tliem immediately replied, 
" We once heard you preach at a watering place in 
Kentucky, and if you preach now as well as you did 
then, the people of New Orleans will be more than 
satisfied — they will be highly pleased." The occa- 
sion referred to has been already mentioned. 

The next day — Wednesday — I wasJnvited to 
dine with Dr. Davidson, g^n eminent physician, who 
belonged to the board of trustees. There were no 
gentlemen present but those of the medical pro- 
fession. The company comprised all the American 



KEY. THEODORE CLAPP. 71 

practitioners then in the place. They did not num- 
ber, I thinlv, more than half a dozen. The two 
doctors were present who attended Mr. Larncd on 
his death bed. He had opened his church every 
Sunday from the beginning of the epidemic, though 
all his friends importuned him, in the strongest 
terms, to desist from his labors, and to repair to the 
pine hills, on the other side of Lake Pontchar train, 
where the yellow fever had never been known. 

" Last summer," said Mr. Larned, " when the epi- 
demic broke out, I followed your advice, and ran 
away into the country. In my absence, both the 
Frcncli and English newspapers animadverted on 
the course which I took, and inquired if it were con- 
sistent with the character and obligations of a Prot- 
estant clergyman to desert his i)Cople in periods of 
calamity and general suffering. Catholic priests 
always remain at their posts, whatever perils assail 
them. I felt in my heart that these criticisms were 
just, and resolved that I would never leave New 
Orleans again in a sickly season. I must adhere to 
this resolution. Duty is ours, events are God's. 
Surely, a minister in his vocation should feel the en- 
nobling principle of honor not less acutely than a 
military hero. The soldier of the cross should al- 
ways act on the motto, ' Victor// or dccil/t.'' It is as 
ignominious for a clergyman to flee from the approach 
of disease, as for an ofiicer of an army to skulk on 
the field of battle." 

In harmony with this sublime sense of duty, my 
predecessor encountered the epidemic of 1820. For 
more than t^yo months, he exposed himself, wherever 



72 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

the line of his profession called, to the shafts of the 
dread enemy. From morning to night he was occu- 
pied with the sick and tlie dying, and in attending 
funerals. Unsolicited he walked through the wards 
of the Charity Hospital every twenty-four hours. 
The 27th day of August Mr. Lamed preached his 
last discourse, at eleven o'clock, A. M. The weather 
was beautiful, and the audience unusually large for 
the season. It was observed that his countenance 
was remarkably florid, as if flushed by some preter- 
natural excitement. His delivery was uncommonly 
animated and eloquent. This fact was noticed by 
the whole congregation. His text was Philippians 
i. 21, " For to me to live is Christ, and to die is 
gain." 

" "We never heard him speak before," said Dr. 
Davidson, " with equal impressivcncss and solemnity. 
In contrasting the burdens, frailties, and sufferings 
of a mortal lot with the glories of immortality, he 
seemed to be inspired. The bosoms of his hearers 
were stirred with the strongest emotions of delight, 
wonder, and astonishment. He intimated that his 
own work on earth might be drawing to a close. 
' I am ready,' said he, ' to meet a final hour ; to 
take a last look at the countenances of beloved rela- 
tives and friends ; to see this fair and glorious scene 
of sublunary shadows no more. For I have been 
made certain through Jesus, that the universe of my 
Father stretches far away beyond the islands, shores, 
and oceans of earth's spreading continents. As I 
see this audience with my bodily vision, so with the 
eye of faith do I now gaze upon those higher regions, 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 73 

where disembodied spirits are expatiating over the 
verdant, smiling iields of an everlasting life — a life 
unassailable by disease, toil, pain, infirmity, sin, 
temptation, or death. To me there is nothing dark 
or desolate in the entrance to a world of spirits. 0, 
let me die, that I may go and live forever ! 0, wel- 
come, thrice welcome the hour when the portals of 
the tomb shall open to receive these mortal remains, 
and the light of a better world shall break in upon 
my forgiven, redeemed, and emancipated spirit!' 
I do not mean to intimate that the above were the 
precise words used by Mr. Larned, but the general 
strain and import of his peroration, as described to 
me by many, who were present on the occasion. 

" As soon as I came out of church," said Dr. Da- 
vidson, " I met a circle at the door, conversing about 
the sermon. All remarked the unusual redness of 
our pastor's face, and the unearthly eloquence of his 
words. In a few moments after reaching my resi- 
dence, a message came that Mr. Larned was taken ill 
on his way home from church, and Avantcd to see me 
immediately. I obeyed the summons without delay. 
On inquiry, I found that he had been seized with a 
severe chill and pain in the back, — the invariable 
precursors of the yellow fever, — before daylight Salv 
bath morning. He ate nothing at breakfast, but 
drank two or three cups of strong coffee to relieve 
his head, before entering the pulpit. This stimulus, 
together with that of speaking, tended greatly to 
aggravate his fever. His symptoms were most lui- 
favorable. 

" ' Doctor,' he inquired, ' do you call this the 
7 



74 AUTOBIOGRAPPIY OF 

yellow fever ? ' I replied, ' Your complaint is not yet 
sufficiently developed to enable me to give a posi- 
tive answer to your question. By to-morrow we shall 
know better about it.' I passed most of the after- 
noon and evening with him. He grew worse rapidly. 
Early Monday morning, in a paroxysm of great suf- 
fering, he repeated the question, ' Doctor, have I got 
the yellow fever ? Do not deceive me ; I am pre- 
pared to know the whole truth.' And the truth was 
told him. ' I have another request to make,' he 
said — ' that whenever you consider me beyond the 
hope of recovery, you will let me know it.' 

" The next day, on Tuesday, it became obvious 
that he could not live many hours. I remarked to 
him that it gave me great pain to say that his dis- 
ease must soon terminate fatally. He received the 
intelligence with perfect composure, and rehearsed 
the text on which he preached for the last time — 
' To me to live is Christ, to die is gain.' All com- 
pany had been kept from visiting him. His wife, 
whose health was so feeble that she could not aid 
the nurses and attendants by personal cooperation, 
came into the room at his request. He bade her a 
most touching, affectionate adieu, and when she left 
the room desired her not to return, saying that he 
should soon meet her in heaven, and that he wanted 
to spend his few remaining moments in prayer and 
meditation. He was sensible to the last, never mur- 
mured nor complained, and was almost continually 
uttering sentiments like these : ' All is right ; all is 
ivell ; all is safe. Father, not my ivill, but thine, be 
dune.' His last words were addressed to a lady of 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 75 

the Methodist congregation, who was by his bed side 
during a great part of his sickness. She asked him 
whether his hopes remained unshaken. He replied, ' 1 
know in whom I have believed, and that he is able to 
keep that which I have committed to him against 
that day. Without a doubt, fear, or misgiving, I re- 
sign my spirit into the hands of God, who gave it.'" 
Dr. Davidson related to me a curious fact during 
our conversation at this time. He was a trustee, 
church treasurer, confidant, and bosom friend of Mr. 
Larned. During the ravages of the epidemic in 
1820, Mr. Larned spoke to him, when returning one 
day from the sick room of a dear friend, about to 
die without what the Presbyterians call a religious 
hope, in the following strain : " I must either re- 
nounce the theology which was taught me at Andover 
and Princeton, or abandon entirely the practice of 
visiting the death beds of the irreligious. What can 
I say to the poor sinner about to draw his last breath, 
who confesses that he lias led a worldly and impeni- 
tent life ? Such was the condition of the sufferer 
whom I have just left with the chill of death upon 
him. Around the bed was a circle of mourning 
friends and kindred, stupefied with horror and heart- 
rending agony, whose solemn silence was broken 
only by the sighs and shudderings of grief and de- 
spair. I confess that our religion could afford them 
no words of hope or consolation. Could I tell thom, 
wliat T had been led to regard as Bible truth, tliat 
death in every instance is the awful consequence of 
original sin ? that it is a thick, overshadowing cloud, 
where God is present only in displeasure, unless the 



76 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

dying person has experienced a change of heart, and 
leans on the vicarious atonement made by Jesus as 
the only ground of salvation ? Impossible ! The 
young man on whom the mortal stroke has fallen, 
though amiable, has led a gay, thoughtless, worldly, 
fashionable life. He is dying with a character which 
cannot now be changed. It is too late. If there 
be not in the great Father a free, independent, un- 
conditional, undeserved, unpurchased mercy for our 
lost race, then there can be no ground of hope for 
the sinners around us, who in crowds are entering 
the unseen world, without faith and repentance." 

About this time, a great change came over Mr. 
Larned's preaching. This was admitted by all who 
attended his church. At the first prayer meeting 
which I attended in the vestry room none but the 
communicants were present. In the course of a 
free conversation on the prospects of religion in the 
Crescent City, the members of the Session and oth- 
ers present remarked that, much as they admired 
Mr. Larned for his personal accomplishments, genius, 
eloquence, and noble bearing, they could not but 
feel tliat he died at a fortunate moment, both with 
reference to his clerical fame, and the prosperity of 
evangelical faith in New Orleans. I was astonished 
at these words, and asked for an explanation. They 
replied, that during the last year of Mr. Larned's 
life, he scarcely so much as alluded to the distin- 
guishing doctrines of Prcsbyterianism in the pulpit. 
His sermons were general homilies on the goodness 
of God, and the excellences and pleasures accruing 
from a religious life this side the grave. He also 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 77 

manifested, they said, a fondness for worldly society, 
which seemed incompatible with the character of a 
devoted minister of Jesus Christ. The deacons told 
me that they themselves, and nearly all of the com- 
municants, had deserted the society, in a body, sev- 
eral weeks before the death of their late pastor. 

At the same dinner party I had much talk with a 
Dr. Flood, at that day the oldest and most popular 
of the American physicians in New Orleans. He 
was a gentleman of great colloquial powers, and 
much originality of genius. Speaking of New Or- 
leans, he said, " Sir, the (/reole inhabitants, here, 
enjoy as large a share of health as falls to the lot of 
those who live in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, 
or any other northern city. It is a most palpable 
error which is circulating abroad, that the locality 
of New Orleans precludes even those who are born 
and brought up within its limits from the blessings 
of hrm, full health. This idea is refuted by a thou- 
sand facts — by the exemption from diseases in gen- 
eral, which characterizes the native population ; by 
the remarkable health of infants ; by the entire ab- 
sence of those local maladies which are almost 
universal in higher latitudes ; and hj the ajipcarance 
of the population generally, which will compare 
most favorably with that of any other people, for all 
the indications of uniform and vigorous health. 
Even during the last summer, amidst all the afflic- 
tions, discomfort, and gloom of the epidemic, one 
could see at the St. Louis Hotel, every morning, 
among the old residents, who remain here perma- 
nently, as j&ne specimens of health as can be found 
7* 



78 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

any where on the continent. The same remark is 
applicable to Charleston, South Carolina, Jamaica, 
St. Domingo, Havana, and the West Indies generally. 
Let a man become acclimated, and let him adopt the 
habits of the old population, and he may be safely 
insured at as small a premium as in any part of the 
United States." 

I received this statement then vs^ith iitter incredu- 
lity ; but now I can cordially subscribe to its cor- 
rectness. During eight months of the year. New 
Orleans is blessed with an extraordinary degree of 
health. From the first of October to the ensuing 
summer, the weather is generally more agreeable 
and salubrious than that of any other place with 
which I am acquainted. Dr. Dewey somewhere says, 
" Whilst the disastrous days of the year are carefully 
recorded, preserved in memory, and often dwelt 
upon, its happy days are forgotten. They pass un- 
noted in the table of life's chronology, unrecorded in 
the book of memory, or the scanty annals of thanks- 
giving. My brethren, if, for a scries of years, we 
could place before our minds the many happy months 
which have been swept beneath the silent wings of 
time ; if we could call up, from the dark back- 
ward and abyss of years, the hours of ease, peace, 
health, beatitude, in which the current of life has 
flowed on, amid kind and blessed visitations of 
Heaven's beneficence, bearing us calmly and gently 
upon its bosom as the infant in its mother's arms ; 
if we could make them stand up before iis as vivid 
realities, and behold them as we do our faces in a 
mirror, — we should deeply feel that God has con- 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 79 

stantlj lavished upon us the richest bounties, and 
that ingratitude is the most enormous and aggra- 
vated sin of which we are guilty." These remarks 
are applicable to those of every locality on tlie globe. 
Is not the healthiest spot within our borders often 
visited by the pestilence that walketh in darkness, 
and the destruction that wasteth at noonday ? Not 
imfrcquently, amid the bracing winds and snows of 
winter, fatal epidemics prevail in the healthiest parts 
of New England. It is thought by those well quali- 
fied to judge correctly about the matter, that con- 
sumption, in its various forms, causes a greater de- 
struction of human life in Boston, during the space 
(we will suppose) of every ten years, than the yellow 
fever docs in the same time in New Orleans. At the 
north, tlie ravages of this fearful scourge are almost 
unnoticed, because they are regular, unintermitted, 
and looked upon almost as a thing of course, belong- 
ing to the ordinary current of human events. But 
in the Crescent City, the enemy comes down in a mo- 
ment, without Avarning, like an Alpine avalanche, 
exciting the notice, wonder, and sympathy of the 
whole land ; and after having fulfilled his mission in 
the compass of six or eight weeks, mysteriously dis- 
appears as he came, and is followed by a period of 
singular and almost universal health, sometimes ex- 
tending even to years. As to the cholera, it is not 
peculiar to New Orleans, but pervades the globe. It 
should be observed, also, that the yellow fever is 
confnied almost exclusively to strangers. It is the 
process by which exotics become assimilated to air, 
climate, temperature, &c., diiferent from, and, in 
some cases, almost antagonistic, to those where they 



80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

were born and reared. So far as the arrangements 
of God are concerned, I believe that all over the 
globe, the blessings of the seasons, weather, climate, 
soil, scenery, and other means of physical happiness, 
are pretty equally distributed. 

There is, indeed, no geographical position where a 
low-minded, debased, and licentious man can be happy. 
All the beauties of nature are lost upon his hardened, 
perverse, and misdirected soul. The outward world 
appears to such a person a dull, indifferent, common- 
place, wearisome affair — a deep, narrow valley, 
hemmed in by inaccessible rocks, filled with the rub- 
bish of dull cares and tiresome vanities. But to the 
eye of a good man, all nature is clothed in beauty. 
" It unfolds in the numberless flowers of spring ; it 
waves in tlie verdant branches of the trees, and the 
green blades of grass ; it haunts the depths of the 
earth and the sea, and gleams out in the hues of the 
shell and the precious stone. And not only these 
minute objects, but the ocean, the mountains, tlie 
clouds, the stars, the rising and setting sun, all over- 
flow with beauty." The same may be said of the 
marsh, the swamp, the barren heath, the sandy des- 
ert ; the shapeless rock and hanging precipice ; tlie 
most rude, gross, and uncultivated parts of nature : 
every thing wliich a noble man looks upon — the 
clods of earth, the furrows of the field, the insensible 
rock — are to his eye emblematical of the grand and 
lovely attributes of an Almighty Father. I repeat 
it, that to a virtuous man, wherever he is, — on the 
Connecticut, Hudson, Ohio, or Mississippi, — nature 
presents, in constant and ever-varying forms, images 
of the fair, orderly, proportioned, and wise, filling his 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 81 

soul with rapture, and lifting it up to the infinite 
Parent. This is in accordance with Scripture. 
" The heavens declare the glory of God, and the 
firmament showeth his handiwork." 

It is a common opinion that Louisiana is much 
inferior to the Northern and Middle States, with re- 
spect to the numerous advantages of climate, health, 
temperature, and natural scenery. A distinguished 
naturalist has endeavored to show that the inhabit- 
ants of Lapland, for example, all things considered, 
derive as much happiness from the physical influ- 
ences by which they are surrounded, as those who 
reside in the verdant regions of the south, where 
reign eternal spring and summer ; where the seasons, 
as they revolve, let fall no blight nor chill upon the 
rich and smiling landscape. He contends that the 
peculiar advantages of every latitude have corre- 
s])onding disadvantages, so that God's goodness 
shines as strongly on one spot as another. 

When the native of Switzerland takes up his 
a1)odc in the luxuriant and beautiful clime of the 
soutli, — those green, sunny regions, where the glory 
of former generations still glimmers on the falling 
monuments and crumbling columns of immortal art, 
where nature lives forever, and forever spreads its 
unfading charms, and the bosom of the earth is fair 
and fragrant through all the circling months, — he 
beholds nothing so interesting as the mountain tops 
covered with eternal snow — those rugged rocks and 
frowning precipices that distinguish the wild land- 
scape endeared to him by the tender reminiscences 
of home and childhood. 



82 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

Not long since, I met at Niagara Falls a French 
Oreolc family, intelligent and refined, who had never 
before wandered beyond the limits of their native 
state. Whilst they seemed to appreciate the new 
and glorious objects which almost continually greeted 
their sight, as they journeyed north and east, still 
they remarked, that they had seen no plt^je which 
they would prefer, as a residence for life, to the spot 
where they were born. To their eye, no prospect 
was more pleasing than that widely-extended planta- 
tion, where they had lived from the beginning amid 
all the endearments of a happy home. " How poor," 
exclaimed they, " are the cultivated hills and narrow 
intervals of New England, compared with the luxu- 
riant soil of Louisiana, loaded with the richest pro- 
ductions — rice, cotton, sugar cane, &c. ! " In our 
gardens are the orange, fig, and olive, all sorts of 
elegant shrubs, and every variety of flowers. We 
are awakened each returning morn by the melodious 
notes of the birds, whose lives have been passed upon 
the spot where their existence began, and that 
seem almost to be a part of the family. How bland, 
balmy, fragrant, and salubrious, our atmosphere ! 
One of the ladies belonging to the company applied 
to her native state the following lines of Byron : — 

" Know ye the land of the myrtle and vine, 
Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine ? 
Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfume, 
Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul in her bloom ? 
Where the orange and olive are fairest of fruit, 
And the voice of the nightingale never is mute ? 
Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky. 
In color though varied, in beauty may vie ? " 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 83 



CHAPTER Y. 

MY FIRST SERMON IN NEW ORLEANS, — EXTEMPORANE- 
OUS PREACHING. PECUNIARY CONDITION OF THE 

CHURCH AT MR. LARNED's DEATH. — GENEROUS OFFER 
MADE BY JUDAH TOURO, ESQ. — HIS PECULIAR CHAR- 
ACTER. — ADMISSION TO THE PRESBYTERY OF MIS- 
SISSIPPI. — ITS RESULTS. — MARRIAGE. 

The first time I preached in the Crescent City was 
on the morning of the last Sabbath in February, 
1822. On the previous Saturday evening, a com- 
mittee of the trustees waited on me, to ascertain 
upon what plan I intended to conduct the services of 
the church. They said, " In all probability, the next 
day will be one of the loveliest of the spring season ; 
and if so, there will be an overflowing house. Notice 
has been published in all the newspapers that you 
are expected to preach in the Presbyterian cliurch on 
Sunday morning. Besides," they remarked, "your 
name has been a subject much talked about among 
us the last week ; great expectations have been 
raised. We have assured our friends that you are 
in every respect qualified to be a successor of our 
former lamented pastor. Now, we have one request 
to make : it is, that you will not attempt to read a 
manuscript sermon. The hearers will expect you to 
imitate Mr. Larned by speaking extemporaneously, 
antl apparently from the inspiration of the moment. 
You might read in our pulpit the best-written sermon 
that was ever composed, equal to one of Chalmers's, 



84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

Eobcrt Hall's, or Dr. Channing's, characterized by 
profound, original thought, neatness and purity of 
style, happy metaphors, language perfectly appropri- 
ate, and completely polished, yet the congregation 
would retire dissatisfied, saying, ' We have heard a 
discourse erudite indeed, and able, but it was not 
like one of Mr. Larned's, — free, unconstrained, per- 
suasive, coming warm and natural from a heart re- 
plenished with ardent, impetuous feelings, poured 
forth with the fulness and rapidity of a torrent.' " 

I promised to comply with their wishes, and do 
the best in my power to gratify a New Orleans audi- 
ence, but begged them, in case of a failure, to allow 
me to steal away as silently as possible the next 
week, in some vessel bound for Boston or New York, 
where the reading of sermons is tolerated in all pul- 
pits. The committee retired. It was near nine 
o'clock in the evening. I had prepared a written 
discourse on the immortality of the soul, being de- 
termined never again to attempt extemporizing in 
the pulpit. I was in despair. I knelt down, and 
prayed for divine guidance and support. Arising, I 
paced the room for some moments in a paroxysm of 
anxiety, during which many schemes for escaping 
from the dilemma passed through my mind. Finally, 
I came to the conclusion to commit to memory the 
principal heads of the discourse I had written, and 
some of the most prominent sentences under each 
division, and trust for the remainder to the spur of 
the occasion. 

In performing this labor, I sat up till daylight, 
then threw myself upon a sofa, and slept till the 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 85 

servant called me to breakfast. I had become calm ; 
but it was the calmness of despair ; for I had aban- 
doned, even, the hope of succeeding in my mission. 
When the bell rang at eleven o'clock, I went to 
the church determined and reckless. It was one of 
those delightful mornings which I have never seen 
any where but in Louisiana. The large house was 
crowded with the most noble-looking audience that I 
had ever gazed upon ; for then, ladies and gentle- 
men in New Orleans dressed as finely to go to church 
as they did when they went to the opera, evening 
party, or ball room. Tliere were a good organ and 
excellent singers. During the music, immediately 
before the sermon, I attempted to recall to mind the 
heads of the discourse which I had spent the night 
in committing to memory. Thoughts and words had 
alike vanished from the tablets of my soul. I could 
think of nothing but that " sea of upturned faces." 
If there had been before me some sliort notes of the 
substance of the discourse, I should not have looked 
on my condition with so much despair. I said to 
myself, " If the hearers are not solemnized, they will 
doubtless be amused at my awkward, clumsy, feeble, 
perplexed, embarrassed, and desultory efforts." A 
cold perspiration covered me. Conforming as nearly 
as was in my power to what had been said was the 
habit of my predecessor, when the music died away, 
I arose very deliberately, opened the Bible, and after 
reading the text, closed it and laid it aside, that 
tliere might be ample room for action. 

The moment I looked upon the audience, the 
words I had learned by rote the night before came to 



86 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

my recollection. I found no difficulty in rehearsing 
them ; but I felt certain that they sounded to my 
auditors stale, flat, and insipid, although they seemed 
quite attentive and absorbed. Every eye was fixed 
Upon me ; but I ascribed this attention to the polite- 
ness of my hearers. They were too noble and high- 
minded to manifest their indifference openly. I 
confess, with shame and sorrow, that I thought 
more of man than God in delivering that discourse. 
This was the real source of all my perplexity ; and 
to the present day, I cannot go into the pulpit with 
becoming indifference to the opinions and criticisms 
of those whom I address. Touching the subject of 
popularity, I have a morbid sensitiveness, which be- 
trays, if not an entire absence, at least an extremely 
low condition of personal piety. If ministers felt 
properly their responsibility to God, they would be 
able always to preach well. 

When I descended from the pulpit, the same gen- 
tlemen who had given me their advice the evening 
before, grasped my hand warmly, and congratulated 
me on the brilliant effort that had been made. They 
said it was enough to establish my fame. It was 
almost impossible to believe in their sincerity. 
Could it be that they would deceive me on such a 
grave matter ? The disclosures of Monday proved 
that they had expressed their sober convictions. 
The audience on that occasion was composed of the 
elite of New Orleans, with respect to refinement and 
intelligence. Among them were tlie ablest members 
of the bar, — those who had belonged to Congress, — 
physicians, enlightened merchants, many strangers 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 87 

of distinction, and the conductors of the daily press. 
In my commendation every voice was joined. Whilst 
my vanity was soothed by this unexpected success, it 
awakened appalling apprehensions as to the future. 
I was now fully committed to the position of an ex- 
temporaneous preacher. But the excitement must 
bo kept up. Another Sunday would soon come. 
The favorable sentiments which had been inspired, 
unless maintained and deepened on the next occa- 
sion, might end in disappointment and disgust. I 
thought of these Ihics of Pope : — 

" Unhappy fame, like most mistaken things, 
Atones not for that evil which it brings ; 
Then mosl^our trouble still, when most admired. 
And still the more we give, the more required." 

But the Rubicon was crossed. Nothing but sickness 
or death could withdraw me from the engagement 
which had been made and ratified by the united 
plaudits of the society. 

In this quandary, it was requisite to act promptly 
and decidedly. I first thought of writing out my 
sermons in full, and committing them to mem- 
ory. But I soon found that this course would make 
an exorbitant demand on my time. I could not 
master a manuscript sermon, so as to rehearse 
it with ease and correctness, without several morn- 
ings' study. My predecessor had a remarkalde fa- 
cility of memory in committing his own com])0- 
sitions. He spent the whole week, from Monday till 
Saturday afternoon, in out-door avocations. About 
dark, he drank strong tea, and then went into 



88 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

his study. Between that hour and ten or eleven 
o'clock, he wrote down completely his sermon for 
the next morning. When finished, he read it once 
over very attentively, before retiring to rest. He 
rose very late Sabbath mornings. About an hour 
before the commencement of the services, he read 
his manuscript a second time, threw it under his feet, 
walked into the pulpit, and pronounced the discourse 
precisely as it was written, in the easy, flowing, 
unembarrassed manner of animated conversation. 
This anecdote I had from Dr. Davidson, an intimate 
friend, who was well acquainted with his haltits. I 
have heard of one great American orator and states- 
man who can do the same thing — the Hon. Edward 
Everett, of Massachusetts. 

Incapable of making such an effort, I was com- 
pelled to have recourse to some other mode of prep- 
aration. There was then in New Orleans one of 
the most eloquent lawyers of his day. I obtained 
an introduction to him. In the course of conversa- 
tion, I remarked, that as I was just beginning to 
speak in public, and experienced much difficulty in 
the process, I should be very much obliged if he 
would tell me what kind of previous preparation for 
delivering a speech he had found most effective. He 
replied, " I never speak without intense premedita- 
tion on my subject, unless compelled by some un- 
foreseen exigencies. With respect to ideas, you 
cannot be too careful and accurate in your prepara- 
tion ; but if you write down every word, and commit 
it to memory, (I have tried this once or twice,) you 
will overdo the matter, and render your discourse 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 89 

heavy. In spite of yourself, it will appear stiff and 
unnatural, labored and cold. I am a very wicked 
man, but if I had to preach in your pulpit next Sab- 
bath morning, I should select a subject to my taste, 
then make, as the lawyers call it, a brief oi what I 
intended to say. This I should carry with me 
through the week, and during my leisure hours, even 
when walking along the streets, think closely on its 
divisions and subdivisions, till I had attained a full 
and distinct view of the matter which I wished to 
clothe in words, till I had become warm and inter- 
ested in it, and made it perfectly familiar to my 
thoughts. Then I could enter your pulpit, and 
speak with fluency, earnestness, case, and with the 
best ornaments of style, manner, and elocution, that 
my poor genius could command. What do you 
think of this plan of preparing sermons ? " he in- 
quired. 

" It strikes me as admirable," I answered. " If 
you will try it next Sunday," he added, " I will be 
present, and honestly give you my opinion of the char- 
acter of your performances." I retired to my room, 
chose a subject, made a brief, and faithfully followed 
his directions, — with one exception, — I did not 
take it into tlie pulpit with me. He kept his word, 
and came to church on Sabbath morning. Meeting 
me after the services, he said, " Sir, your discourse 
was natural, easy, simple, and magnificent ; you laid 
down sentence after sentence, and paragraph after 
paragraph, entirely fit for the press ; I did not notico 
that you tripped a single time, which you would have 
done, had you used a manuscript. You will make 
8* 



90 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

an extemporaneous speaker quite as popular and 
brilliant as ever Mr. Larned was." This gentleman 
communicated to me what was worth more, as to the 
secret of speaking well in the pulpit, than all which 
I had heard from the professors at Andover, or read 
in treatises on the subject. 

The above plan I have followed sedulously all my 
life since. The first fifteen years of my residence in 
New Orleans, I was particular in writing my briefs. 
I had preserved a large basket full of them, which 
were all burned when I left the people of my charge, 
in May, 185G. For the last twenty years, I have 
made only mental preparation for the pulpit. Each 
of the sermons of mine published in the " Picayune " 
was written off from memory, at two sittings — one 
on the Sabbath evening after it was delivered, the 
other on Monday morning, before breakfast. Not 
one of those discourses was rewritten or revised. 

I hope it will not look like presumption to give 
my opinion concerning a question which has been so 
extensively contested among the clergy, and remains 
still undecided — whether extemporizing or reading 
sermons is the most instructive and edifying mode 
of delivery. Surely I may be pardoned for express- 
ing a judgment dictated by the results of thirty-five 
years' practice. I do not use the word extemporize 
to mean preaching without study, premeditation, and 
careful composition. It is an insult to an audience 
to go before them, if it can be avoided, relying en- 
tirely for utterance upon the spur of the occasion. 
Whatever be his native genius, no clergyman can 
succeed as a settled pastor, without fixed habits of 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 91 

the most persevering and energetic study. He 
should rise at four o'clock A. M. in summer, and 
live A. M. in winter, so as to secure an opportunity 
of from live to six hours of uninterrupted study, 
before he is liable to be broken in upon by company, 
or by applicants for parochial ministrations. This 
routine I have faithfully pursued during the whole 
of my residence at the south. Without such sys- 
tematic, previous, regular application and toil, it is 
impossible for any clergyman to make suitable pro- 
visions for the spiritual nourishment and growth of 
a large promiscuous congregation. 

Think what resources are wanted to preach even 
one good sermon ; but a hundred are needed for a 
single year. Who is sufficient for these things ? 
Can that man become adequately acquainted with 
the natural sciences ; history, sacred and profane ; 
the Bible, its exegesis ; the science of human nature, 
of ethics, and of beauty, — can that man have a soul 
warmed and enriched with the profound and diversi- 
fied topics which appertain to pulpit instruction and 
persuasion, who spends the most of nearly every day 
in visiting, running about to make lyceum speeches, 
and addresses at political meetings, in cursing our 
civil rulers, and scolding them about those awful 
derelictions of duty which threaten to ruin this glo- 
rious republic ? What a pity the parsons were not 
allowed to sway a sceptre over all human interests, 
secular and divine ! In that case, the millennium, 
no doubt, would soon be in its zenith. 

Nevertheless, I am satisfied that if a minister con- 
sults his highest usefulness, he will not depend much 



92 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

upon his notes in the pulpit. If he reads entirely or 
chiefly, he cannot adopt an easy, natural, impressive, 
and unaffected manner. There is an infinite differ- 
ence between written and spoken language. If I 
were to read to my people in New Orleans, from the 
pulpit, one of Dr. Clianning's best sermons, it would 
strike them as cold, artificial, elaborate, dull, and 
uninteresting. Positively, it would have a narcotic 
effect upon them. But let me present the same 
thoughts in the style of vivid, unforced, agreeable 
conversation, and they would be kept wide awake, 
absorbed, and intensely interested. 

The most effective pulpit style which I have wit- 
nessed at the north (if we except occasional tcdi- 
ousness, prolixity, and some other peculiarities,) is 
that of the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, of Brooklyn, 
New York. In one part of his discourse, there is 
close reasoning ; in another, familiar talk ; in a 
third, grand declamation ; in a fourth, a fine, origi- 
nal picture of the imagination ; in a fifth, something 
that will send a laugh like an electric shock through 
the whole audience ; in a sixth, an appeal to the 
sublimities of God, duty, and retribution, which 
makes all present feel solemn, and moved perhaps 
to tears. 

In some instances, all these different manifesta- 
tions are combined into a single paragraph. An or- 
thodox " old fogy " would of course be shocked at 
one of his discourses, as it would seem to him utterly 
devoid of reverence, but he could not go to sleep 
under its delivery. For myself, I cannot but honor 
and admire the man who, in defiance of all the 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 93 

prudery and pedantry of clinrcli conventionalisms, 
enters the pulpit to pour out a Niagara of original 
thoughts on the great themes of Christian truth and 
duty, and social progress. I must say, however, 
that I have no sympathy with his peculiar views on 
slavery. Here I differ from him as far as the east is 
from the west. If all ministers, like Mr. Beecher, 
would abandon, but for an hour, their manuscripts, 
and speak in public as they do in private, we should 
not hear these universal complaints about cold, dead, 
dry, metaphysical sermons. But, generally, people 
would find the church a more interesting place than 
the opera, theatre, ball room, museum, or evening 
party. 

A meeting of the society was called, on the third 
Sabbath after my arrival in New Orleans, to elect a 
permanent pastor. I was chosen to fill this oflice by 
a unanimous vote, both of the pew holders and com- 
municants. I told the committee, who waited on 
me to ask my acceptance of the post to which I had 
been called, tliat I could not give them an answer 
till I had examined the pecuniary affairs of the 
church. Tlie treasurer's books and papers were 
placed in my hands. By the aid of a young gentle- 
man familiar with the routine of a counting room, 
I soon ascertained that the church indebtedness 
amounted to forty-five thousand dollars. They could 
sliow no assets whatever ; there was not a dollar in 
the treasury. As soon as these facts were ascer- 
tained, I informed the committee that I was immova- 
bly determined not to accept their offer at all, unless 
the above-named debt were in some way liquidated. 



94 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

The legislature of Louisiana happened to be in ses- 
sion at that very moment. The trustees applied to 
them for a lottery, which was then considered a 
justifiable mode of raising money for charitable ob- 
jects. It was granted at once, and the same week 
the scheme was sold to the agents of Yates and 
Mclntyre, New York, for twenty-five thousand dol- 
lars. The balance of the debt was raised by selling 
the church to Judah Touro, Esq., a merchant, ori- 
ginally from New England. The property Avas 
worth a great deal more than twenty thousand dol- 
lars. The sale of the church was looked upon as 
merely nominal, although it was purchased without 
any conditions, expressed or implied, or any pledges 
as to the final disposition which should be made of 
it. All had confidence in the general character of 
Mr. Touro, and were very glad to have the church 
put into his hands. 

Mr. Touro was left an orphan about the age of 
ten, in his native place, Newport, R. I. After that 
time he lived in Boston fifteen years, and was trained 
to the pursuits of mercantile life. He immigrated 
to New Orleans in 1802, and never left it for a day 
till his death, with the single exception of marching 
to the battle field, at the time of the invasion, in 1815, 
to lay down his life, if necessary, (and he came near 
doing it,) for the preservation of our liberties. Did 
he not display a patriotism as noble and undaunted 
as that of Washington, Warren, Lafsiyette, or any 
others whose names are inscribed upon the brightest 
pages of American history ? It is universally known 
what sort of a i)lace New Orleans has been, cspe- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 95 

cially for the last forty years, with respect to sudden, 
extraordinary reverses and fluctuations in commer- 
cial affairs. In rapid succession the storms of dis- 
tress have desolated that emporium, sweeping away 
like a crevasse, in a few short hours, the hopes and 
possessions of hundreds and thousands, and producing 
a complete revolution in the community. I have seen 
the millionnaire of one year laboring in the next as 
a clerk in a counting room or bank. 

Through all these " times that tried men's souls," 
Mr. Touro pursued the even tenor of his way, ever 
calm and self-possessed, and with his robes unstained. 
The poisonous breath of calumny never breathed 
upon his fair name as a merchant and upright busi- 
ness man. The most tempting opportunities of gain 
from the shattered fortunes which were floating 
around, never caused him in a single instance to 
swerve from the path of plain, straightforward, sim- 
l)le, unbending rectitude. He was uniformly just. 
" Justice," says Plato, " is the divincst attribute of a 
good man," I heard Mr. Touro once remark, that, 
in his whole life, he had never knowingly, deliberately 
injured a fellow-being, either as to his person, prop- 
erty, or reputation. Of all the glories which men 
have displayed in any age, none is more entitled 
til an this species of excellence to our unqualified 
admiration. None is more rare. I heard a deacon 
of an orthodox church, in the interior of New Eng- 
land, who was largely engaged in selling goods to 
the surrounding farmers, say, a short time ago, that 
he had to keep a strict eye even on a majority of the 
church members with whom he dealt, or they would 



96 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

deceive him as to the quantity and quality of the 
yarious articles which were offered in the way of 
exchange. " Yet," continued he, " I do not doubt 
their piety." 

This same gentleman, a moment before, had ex- 
pressed a doubt wdiether it was possible for ]\Ir. 
Touro to have been a pious man, because he was a 
Jew. I replied, that it was true, he was born, reared, 
and had lived, and died in the Hebrew faith. It 
was the foith of his father, who was a learned and 
most esteemed rabbi. It was the faith that had been 
handed down to him by a long line of illustrious 
ancestors, reaching back to the patriarchal ages of 
the world. It was the faith of Abraham, Isaac, and 
Jacob, to whom those glorious promises were first 
given, which embrace tlie final, complete, and ever- 
lasting exaltation of all mankind. It was the faith 
of Jesus himself, who was a Jew, and who declared 
that the religion of the Old Testament contains all that 
is requisite to guide us to eternal joy ; that he came 
into the world not to destroy that f\iith, but to free 
it from corruptions, and send it forth in its divine, 
original, unimpaired vigor and freshness. " Besides," 
I added, "all admit that the moral character of 
Mr. Touro was spotless. He was one who was never 
guilty of prevarication, falsehood, libertinism, or the 
bartering of his conscience for filthy lucre." " All 
this," answered the deacon, " amounts to nothing, so 
far as the question of his piety is concerned. He 
may be perfectly just, good, true, and lovely, as to 
his moral conduct ; yet he cannot be saved without 
faith in the Son of God." What a delusion ! Faith 



REY. THEODORE CLAPP. 97 

in the Son of God is nothing more nor less than 
goodness of heart and life. 

Dr. Chalmers once said, " All right-hearted per- 
sons are pious in the sight of God, whether Hebrew, 
Christian, Pagan, or Deistical in regard to mere creed 
or abstract opinions." A man who thinks himself 
more wise, more enlightened, more pleasing to God, 
or possessed of a fairer prospect of being admitted 
finally to the kingdom of heaven than his neighbors, 
because his creed is sounder than theirs, is not only 
guilty of a narrow, mean, exclusive bigotry, but 
deliberately tramples on that precept of the gospel 
which says, we " must by no means condemn a 
neighbor on account of his peculiar religious princi- 
ples." " Who art thou that condcmnest thy broth- 
er," <fcc. ? " To his own Master he shall give an ac- 
count of himself, and be judged accordingly." It is 
awful to think of this violation of the law of charity 
among the various denominations ui the United 
States. Multitudes of noble, high-minded men are 
kept from joining any particular church, from the 
conviction that such a step would expose them to the 
hatred and persecution of antagonistic sects. I have 
often heard Mr. Touro say, that, though an Israelite 
to the bottom of his soul, it would give him the sin- 
cerest pleasure to see all the churches flourishing in 
their respective ways, and that he was heartily sorry 
that they did not more gGiieraWy fraternize unth,lore, 
and help each other. 

This gentleman was the humblest man whom I 
have ever been acquainted with. A person over- 
modest is very seldom found, or rather is to be looked 
9 



98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

upon as an anomaly in this proud, selfish world of 
ours. But Mr. Touro was too sensitive on this sub- 
ject. The most delicate, deserved, and timely ex- 
pressions of esteem from particular, intimate friends 
and acquaintances, seemed to give him pain instead 
of pleasure. I remember being in his company 
once, when a friend proposed to read to him a para- 
graph from a Boston newspaper, which spoke of his 
character in terms of eulogy. He refused to listen 
to the perusal, and remarked, with apparently excited 
feelings, that " he would thank them to change the 
subject of conversation." Several times, when alone, 
I asked him some questions about the battle of New 
Orleans, in which he received such a dreadful wound. 
He declined making any particular remarks about it, 
further than to express his deep sense of the kind- 
ness of his friend, R. D. Shephard, Esq., who car- 
ried him from the field of conflict and saved his 
life. He is the only one of the veterans under Gen- 
eral Jackson, on the plains of Chalmette, with whom 
I have conversed, who seemed to take no pleasure in 
describing the part which he acted on the ever- 
memorable 8th of January, 1815. Mr. Touro once 
said, in my hearing, that ho would have revoked the 
donation given for completing the Bunker Hill 
Monument, on account of their publishing his 
name in the newspapers, contrary to his wishes, 
had it not been for the apprehension that his real 
motives would have been misunderstood and mis- 
represented. And most assuredly the fear was well 
grounded. 

I Avish here to record a few lines as to the charac- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 99 

ter of Judali Touro's philantliropy. The name of 
John Wesley, founder of that h\rge, respcctabhi de- 
nomination, the Methodists, is enrolled on the list of 
eminent British philanthropists. For what reasons ? 
Because, among other virtues, we are told that, hy a 
life of the most unexampled economy, he saved, in 
the space of fifty years, one hundred and fifty thou- 
sand dollars out of his income, to be devoted to the 
cause of charity. Judah Touro, by habits of frugal- 
ity not less strict and admirable than those of the 
eminent Christian just named, during a half century 
accumulated five hundred thousand dollars, to be 
used in promoting the same sublime purpose. Mr. 
Wesley is praised because he was so generous in his 
donations to the church that was nearest to his heart, 
and of which he was the principal originator. Mr. 
Touro gave to the church which he most loved not 
less tlian the great Wesley did to the Methodists — 
two liundred and twenty thousand dollare. I have 
never lieard of but one religionist in the United 
States who can be compared with Mr. Touro, as re- 
gards the liberality of his benefactions to his own 
church ; and he bestowed nothing on other denomi- 
nations. 

But Mr. Touro gave more to strangers than to his 
brethren. On the former he conferred three hun- 
dred thousand dollars ; on the latter, but two hun- 
dred thousand. With a generous profusion, he scat- 
tered his favors l)roadcast over the wide field of 
humanity. He knew well that many of the recipi- 
ents of his bounty hated the Hebrews, and would, 
if possible, sweep them into annihilation. In this 



100 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

respect, did he not recognize the principle upon 
which God himself distributes his bounties among 
men ? For Jesus declares that the Father loves and 
blesses his enemies as much as he does his friends. 
So the person I am speaking of consulted not the ill- 
desert, meanness, prejudice, or sin, of those whom 
he was pleased to help, but only how they might be 
best raised from debasement and destitution. If 
God were to pour out on his foes vengeance instead 
of love, his throne would crumble, and the universe 
be reduced to chaos. Indeed, this feature of Mr. 
Touro's beneficence is so exalted, noble, and godlike, 
that I should but mar and obscure the bright ideal 
by the most impressive description that language 
could give. He once saw, when standing at the door 
of his counting room, a poor, lost inebriate, in the 
hands of the sheriff, passing on his way to prison for 
debt. Mr. Touro stopped him, and spoke kindly to 
him, as he had known him in better days. Ascer- 
taining the sum for which he had been apprehended, 
he immediately paid it, and effected his release. It 
amounted, with costs, to nine hundred dollars. He 
said, " I do not much expect tliat it will be of any 
benefit to the individual himself, but I have per- 
formed the act for the sake of his family." 

It was a time of great business depression in New 
Orleans, when Mr. Touro became the proprietor of 
the church edifice and grounds. Many of the society 
fell in the preceding epidemic. Some who were 
most prominent in settling Mr. Larned had just 
compounded with their creditors. The friends of 
the institution were few, feeble, impoverished, bank- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 101 

nipt, and pushed to the very brink of ruin. A noblo 
Israelite snatched them from the jaws of destruction. 
From that day down to its destruction by fire, he 
held it for their use, and incurred an additional ex- 
pense of several thousand dollars for keeping it in 
repair. For myself he professed the strongest per- 
sonal regard, and showed it by giving me almost the 
entire income of the church — the pew rents — for 
about twenty -eight years. He might have torn the 
building down at the beginning, and reared on its 
site a block of stores, whose revenue by this time 
would have amounted to half a million of doUai's at 
least. He was urged to do so on several occasions, 
and once replied to a gentleman who made a very 
liberal offer for the property, that " there was not 
money enough in the world to buy it, and that if he 
could have his way, there should be a church on the 
spot to the end of time." 

This man was a Jew. Is there a Christian society 
in New Orleans that has ever offered the Unitarians 
the slightest assistance, or even courtesy ? Is tlicrc 
one that would put forth a hand to help them 
to-day, if they were in danger of perishing? Is 
there one that would not rejoice in their complete, 
absolute destruction ? The Unitarians have aided 
materially towards the erection of all the orthodox 
Protestant churches in the Crescent City. But when 
they were burned out, and asked for one of the or- 
thodox churches to hold meetings in occasionally, 
the favor was denied on the alleged ground that by 
showing such a kindness, they might indirectly en- 
courage the dreadful heresies which Ave were labor- 
9* 



102 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

ing to promulgate. It was this spirit that burned 
Servetus, that kindled the fires of the auto de fc, and 
has condemned to the wheel, rack, gibbet, or cross, 
the noblest benefactors of our race. But in this 
emergency, the aforesaid Hebrew came to our relief. 
He purchased a small Baptist chapel for us to wor- 
ship in, free of charge, till he could put up a larger 
building for the use of the congregation. 

The question is often asked, whether Mr. Touro 
was as liberal in the matter of private donations as 
in his public charities. We cannot give an arith- 
metical answer to this question, for he followed most 
scrupulously the injunction of our Lord, " Let not 
thy left hand know what thy right hand docth." It 
has come incidentally to my knowledge, that since 
my settlement in New Orleans, the amount of his 
private benefactions has not been less than thirty 
thousand dollars. It no doubt far exceeded this 
statement. Touching this matter, did space allow, 
I could give many interesting anecdotes. Though 
Mr. Touro was exact, rigid, and methodical in his 
business transactions, this trait of character had not 
its origin in covetousness. When his impulses led 
the way, he poured forth his money freely as water. 
I was in his counting room one morning, when ho 
told me, weeping, that he had just signed a doc- 
ument resigning his legal title to the entire estate of 
an only sister, recently deceased. It was worth, if I 
remember aright, about eighty thousand dollars. 
He refused to take the smallest fraction of it, and 
requested his friends at the north to distribute it 
for charitable purposes, in the manner which they 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 103 

thought -would be most agreeable to her, were she 
still living. Had avarice been liis ruling passion, 
would he have allowed such a windfall to escape his 
grasp ? 

It has often been said by persons in New Orleans, 
that Mr. Touro did not do for myself particularly, 
as much, all things considered, as I had a right to 
expect. But do they know the principles which 
governed and directed his acts of kindness to me and 
mine ? He often said, " Mr. Clapp, you are alto- 
gether too profuse and indiscriminate in your chari- 
ties. I admit that you are economical in your hab- 
its and mode of living ; but were you to come into 
the possession of a fortune, you would give it all 
away in a year or two, unless you liad an overseer 
appointed." I might have done so then, but I am 
sure that I should not do so now, if I had the cliance. 
It was his honest conviction that I ought not to 
have access to much money at a time. But most of 
my friends are not aware of the magnitude of the 
benefits which he was actually pleased to confer on 
me. Besides allowing me to take nearly the whole 
income of the pew rent, he gave me in small sums, 
from time to time, not less than twenty thousand 
dollars. Whenever I told him that I was out of 
money, he always supplied me, saying, " that was 
the last lie could let me have, for the church ought 
certainly to yield me enough." Indeed, it was 
entirely owing to the unwise profusion of my chari- 
ties, that I did not leave New Orleans with an ample 
competence for life. 

The title "Philanthropist" is the most honorable 



104 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

surname on earth. It has been most justly bestowed 
on Judah Touro, and he will wear it till time is no 
more ; it will be inscribed in light immortal on the 
diadem of his everlasting reward. I thank God for 
my acquaintance with this man ; I thank God that 
he was my friend ; above all, I would be thankful 
for the hope of meeting him in that brighter exist- 
ence, where those who love each other will be sep- 
arated no more. 

Daniel Webster once said in an address before 
the Hebrew Benevolent Association of New York 
city, " We are indebted to the Jewish nation for 
revealed religion, for the most important blessings 
and refinements of civilized life, and for all well- 
grounded hopes of immortal bliss beyond the grave." 
It is a trite and commonplace remark, that charita- 
ble institutions have never been known to exist, ex- 
cept in those lands illuminated by the light of rev- 
elation. When we look along the shores of the old 
pagan world, we behold the relics of mouldering 
cities, pyramids, palaces, temples, villas, obelisks, 
military columns, spacious amphitheatres, and stat- 
ues erected to immortalize heroes, poets, and schol- 
ars ; but nowhere in those regions do we meet the 
remains of free public schools, orphan asylums, 
hospitals, retreats for the destitute and unfortunate, 
nor monuments intended to perpetuate the memory 
of those wlio consecrated their lives to the meliora- 
tion of humanity. They are found only in those 
lands which have derived their ideas of glory from 
the Hebrew Scriptures, and from the life and teach- 
ings of Him who uttered the parable of the good 
Samaritan. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 105 

What a striking evidence of the divine origin and 
necessity of the Bible ! This sacred volume has 
taught the world, that for man there is no heritage 
on earth worth the seeking, worth the asking, worth 
the having, but an upright and beneficent life. This 
is that building spoken of by our Saviour, that rests 
iipon an immovable basis. When the rains de- 
scend and the floods rage, and the winds blow and 
beat thereon, it cannot be overthrown, for it is 
founded upon a rock. 

The names of those who built the Egyptian pyra- 
mids are lost in oblivion. But if, instead of rearing 
piles of magnificence for self-aggrandizement, they 
had employed the same means in founding institu- 
tions for the deaf and dumb, hospitals, and other 
philanthropic establishments, their memories would 
have been preserved green and flourishing by grate- 
ful millions ; they would have floated down on a 
gathering tide of glory to the last syllable of record- 
ed time. 

I staid in New Orleans this year, 1822, till the 
middle of May. The congregations were constantly 
as large as the house would hold. My extemporane- 
ous style of preaching seemed to be generally accept- 
able. Some, however, did not like me at all. One 
gentleman of strong mind and great reading, and a 
confirmed Deist, stopping me in the street one day, 
spoke thus : " Since my settlement in New Orleans, 
I never went inside of a church till Mr. Larncd came 
here. I attended his meetings every Sabbath, not 
because I believed in his ideas of religion, — they 
were revolting to me, — but to enjoy the indescribable 



106 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

charms of his natural eloquence. I heard you 
preach yesterday. As a didactic performance, your 
sermon was respectable, perhaps equal to an ordina- 
ry discourse of Mr. Larned ; but your delivery is 
far less interesting. He seemed to speak because he 
could not help it ; you speak in a labored manner, 
as if it was a very unwelcome task. There is 
nothing to interest me in your manner, and your 
doctrines I repudiate ; but when you come across 
poor, sick, and suffering people, call on me ; it will 
always give me pleasure to aid in relieving them." 

He was as good as his word. I cannot tell how 
many hundreds he gave me, in times of public dis- 
tress, to be distributed according to my best judg- 
ment. I offered to give — but he never would 
receive — vouchers for the faithful manner in which 
the funds intrusted to my hands were disposed of. 
For aught he knew to the contrary, the moneys 
given were used for my personal emolument. 

Another gentleman, a Calvinist, communicant, 
and a constant attendant on church, urged upon me, 
every time I saw him, the importance of getting up 
in the Crescent City such revivals of religion as were 
flourisliing at the north. " It makes me weep in 
secret," he said, "when I think of the number of 
unregenerate souls here that are hurrying to the re- 
gions of eternal woe." Yet this man, though he was 
wealthy, never could be persuaded to give me ten 
dollars to relieve a sick, indigent, dying family. But 
his creed was the very type of evangelical purity. 
He knew the Westminster Catechism by heart, and 
was eternally talking about justification l)y failh 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 107 

alone, man's utter inability to do any thing good, 
the glories of electing grace, and the certainty that 
eternal damnation must be the portion of all those 
who die in their sins. I have often revolved in my 
mind the question, which of these characters was 
most acceptable to God, the Deist, whose heart and 
life were full of goodness and mercy, or the Calvin- 
ist, whose belief and worship were in exact accord- 
ance with prescribed, accredited formulas, but whose 
daily walk yielded no fruits of purity or disinterest- 
edness. 

In general, I found the state of society in New 
Orleans more agreeable than I had imagined. Most 
of the gentlemen whom I became acquainted with 
were distinguished for superior refinement and wide 
knowledge of the world. Their frank, easy, open, 
and generous hospitality was truly delightful. Most 
of the families that I visited received me without 
ceremony, as a friend whom they loved and confided 
in ; not as a person preeminently holy, so purified 
from the attachments of earth as to have no taste for 
the scenes and enjoyments of society. One day I 
was invited to take tea in a family of our congrega- 
tion, and pass the evening with a small number of 
friends. Being called to attend a wedding, I did not 
reach the house till near ten o'clock. Instead of a 
few persons convened simply for an hour's conversa- 
tion, there was a large, gay company, whose move- 
ments had resolved themselves into a dance, and were 
directed by a band of musicians. Now, if I had fol- 
lowed the advice of one of my venerable instructors 
at Andovcr, I should have instantly retired, that I 



108 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

might not, even in appearance, have sanctioned, for 
a moment, a species of recreation so inconsistent 
with the dignity and serionsness of a Christian life. 
But as I was politely conducted to a chair in the 
midst of a circle of ladies, who preferred looking on 
to an active participation in the festivity going for- 
ward, I determined to make myself at home, and 
commit what I had been taught to regard as a hein- 
ous, nnjustifiable indulgence, by witnessing an en- 
tertainment pronounced, among Presbyterian clergy- 
men generally, to be sinful and injurious. There 
was, however, in my heart, no sense of violated duty, 
no feeling of guilt. I realized then my accountabil- 
ity to God, and that were I to die instantly, my 
future interests would be just as safe as if called to 
draw my last breath in the pulpit, at a funeral, 
by the bed of the dying, or in the sacred seclusion 
of the closet. 

I spent an hour or more in this cheerful circle, 
where all things to the eye and ear were refined, 
orderly, and decorous. The hearts of that company 
were visible only to the Omniscient One. I shall 
refer to the impressions made on my mind by their 
external appearance. Before me stood the young 
and happy, npon whose fates and fortunes the som- 
bre shadows of adversity had not yet gathered ; their 
minds were bright and buoyant, their steps elastic, 
their ears opened to the melodies of sound, their 
eyes radiant with pleasnre. As I was meditating 
upon those comely brows, flushed with the bloom of 
early life ; the fair forms of feminine grace and 
loveliness ; the dignified, accomplished manners of 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 109 

those more advanced in years ; the music ; sprightly 
conversation, wit, love, gaycty, and joyousness which 
characterized the whole scene, — a sweet, profound, 
unwonted perception of God's goodness captivated 
my soul. Such intense feelings of piety I had never 
before experienced. I said to myself" It has, indeed, 
pleased God, ' to make man but a little lower than 
the angels, and to crown him with glory and honor.' 
If he is so beautiful here, what will he not become 
in that future state, where our loftiest ideals and 
actual attainments both will regularly advance in a 
progression that is infinite ! " I was rapt in delight- 
ful visions of a spiritual world. This thought took 
complete possession of my mind. God is too good 
not to provide for us something nobler, better, 
greater, more permanent, and more satisfying than 
the transitory possessions and pleasures of time. 
Can he present to us the chalice of existence, and 
then dash it from our lips just as we begin to taste 
its joys ? Is not his infinite love a pledge that he 
will never treat us so cruelly ? Would a kind par- 
ent promise his children favors which he never in- 
tended to bestow on them ? Can God awaken irre- 
pressible desires of continued, unending happiness, 
only to be crushed out and disappointed forever ? 
Nothing in mathematics is more certain than the 
doctrine that the inherent, essential desires of our 
moral nature will be completely gratified. Can they 
be, if death is an eternal sleep ? 

If the Holy Spirit ever breathed on my heart, it 
was on that occasion, amid the music, thoughtless- 
ness, levity, ceremonials, and sensuous attractions of 
10 



110 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

an evening party. There, if ever, the inspirations 
of God touched and ennobled my soul. Said a lady 
who Avas sitting next to me, " Mr. Clapp, you seem 
to be in a brown study. Are you thinking out a 



sermon 



? " 



" No, madam ; but a glorious subject for a ser- 
mon has just entered my thoughts. We are cheated, 
we arc deceived, by the very constitution of our na- 
ture, if the pleasures of this evening are not a preli- 
bation and foreshadowing of purer and ever-increas- 
ing joy beyond the grave. If a bird or a beast 
could cherish a conscious desire of happiness, this 
fact would prove its title to an endless life." 

" Indeed," continued the lady, " you have made a 
notable discovery — the seeking of happiness even 
in amusements demonstrates our immortality. Had 
yoii not better preach on the subject next Sabbath ? " 

Her suggestion, though made facetiously, Avas fol- 
lowed. I took for my text Isaiah xxviii. 20 : " For 
the bed is shorter than that a man can stretch him- 
self on it^ and the covering narroiver than that he can 
tvrap himself in it.''"' I began by saying, " 0, the mis- 
ery, depression of spirits, gloom, ennui, and despair 
of those who live below their highest capabilities and 
aspirations ; who live in a merely physical and sensual 
existence — a world of the bodily and animal senses ; 
who never soar to feel their divinity, by expatiating 
over the immortal regions of truth, knowledge, 
beauty, and virtue ! Whatever may be the good 
purposes for which the animal appetites and passions 
were given us, they are a source of continual sorrow 
and unhappiness to the pure and spiritual mind — 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. Ill 

a mind that longs to rise to God, and live above the 
plane of animal sensation only, which is so fatal to 
honor, glory, and happiness, yet so inspiring and in- 
vigorating to vice. The unrestrained indulgence of 
a single natural desire, or passion of the physical 
man, is enough to darken, prostrate, and destroy the 
soul. This habitual neglecting to subject appetite to 
a sense of duty is the real source of all the sin and 
degradation on earth. 

" Moreover, as intimated in the text, the person who 
gives himself up to self-indulgence is never satisfied. 
He chases a rainbow that is painted on a cloud, and 
retreats before him as he advances, till finally it van- 
ishes forever from his view. Not one of all the irre- 
ligious millions who have lived, ever sat down for 
one moment contented with present attainments, 
without longing after some remote and inaccessible 
good. They spent their days only to be broken by 
toil, to be wasted by sickness, to be racked with 
pain, to be desolated by one surge of sorrow after 
another, till called to enter ' that undiscovered 
country from whose bourn no traveller returns.' 
Yes, my friends, like a pendulum, they were con- 
stantly vacillating between the ecstasy of hope and 
the lifelessness of possession — struggling, striving, 
and wearying themselves out, till the curtain of mor- 
tality fell, and their busy, restless, disappointed 
hearts, crowded with plans, cares, and anticipations, 
forgot to beat, and all their fluttering anxieties were 
hushed forever in the cold silence of the tomb. 
Without timely repentance, in like manner shall we 
all perish. 



112 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

" What signifies this solemn fact, testified to by 
universal experience, that our material bed and cov- 
ering are too small for us ? What mean these im- 
measurable longings, which no earthly forms of 
beauty and bliss can satiate ? They teach us, my 
friends, that at death we shall not be turned into 
cold clay or dry dust, lifeless, senseless, and thought- 
less, forevermore ; that the soul of man will last as 
long as the throne of God ; that it will live through 
more years, ages, centuries, and cycles than there 
are drops of water in the ocean ; and even then the 
morning of an endless existence will scarcely have 
dawned around us ; that we have been created to 
tread the broad and boundless pathways of a desti- 
nation that has no limits. Solemn, sublime, incon- 
ceivable, transporting thought ! If we realized it, 
all the material possessions and glories around would 
seem to us but as worthless spangles in the dust we 
tread on — but as the baubles and playthings which 
little children use in the sports of a summer's after- 
noon. The pressure of sin would be removed fi'om 
our bosoms ; free, elastic, and joyous, we should 
stand upon the lofty eminence of Christian faith, and 
look out upon a perspective of loveliness, rising and 
spreading, in all the glories of immortality, beyond 
the dark ruins of earth and time." 

Such, in substance, was the sermon suggested to 
my mind by witnesshig the profusion, splendor, and 
beauty of a social entertainment. The lady above 
mentioned remarked to me the next day, that last 
Sunday's sermon was the best I had yet preached, 
in the judgment of all the congregation. " We had 



REV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 113 

better make a party for you once every week." Inci- 
dents similar to the one just narrated, have given birth 
to most of the discourses which I have delivered in 
New Orleans. A settled minister cannot adapt his 
homilies to the wants of his parishioners, unless 
they are all embraced in his parochial visits ; unless 
he is on terms of the most familiar, unreserved, and 
intimate intercourse with them, so that they are in- 
duced honestly to communicate to him the thoughts, 
feelings, doubts, fears, hopes, and secrets of their 
inmost souls. Never until I went to New Orleans 
had I any just conception of the best mode of preach- 
ing, nor the class of subjects which should be gener- 
ally introduced into the pulpit. 

On the 20th of ]\Iay, 1822, indispensable business 
called me to leave the south on a jaunt to New Eng- 
land. I returned to my post of labor before the ep- 
idemic of that year had terminated. On my way up 
the river, I made a pause at Louisville, to take upon 
myself the vows of wedlock. I was married the 31st 
of May, 1822, to Miss Adeline Hawes, a beautiful 
and interesting young lady, originally from Boston, 
Massachusetts, but at that time a resident of Ken- 
tucky. For thirty-five years we have been sharers 
of each other's joys, consolers of each other's sor- 
rows, and helpers together amid the allotments and 
vicissitudes which were ordained for us Ijy a wise 
and merciful Providence. "We have had six chil- 
dren ; three of them — one son and two daughters 
— arc in the spirit land ; three sons survive. The 
eldest is settled in the Crescent City ; the second is in 
10* 



114 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

Chicago ; the third and youngest is with his parents 
in Louisville. 

We have reason to bless God for the degree of 
health and prosperity which have been bestowed 
upon us in perilous times gone by ; that we still live 
in peace and competence ; and above all, that we are 
permitted, through Christ, to cherish the glorious 
hope, that after having finished the eventful journey 
of human life, we shall meet in those eternal scenes 
of beauty and of bliss which await the children of 
God in a brighter and better world. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 115 



CHAPTER YI. 

GENERAL REMARKS UPON THE EPIDEMICS WHICH HAVE 

PREVAILED IN NEW ORLEANS. ASIATIC CHOLERA IN 

THE FALL OF 1832 AND THE SUMMER OF 1833. 

There have been twenty very sickly seasons dur- 
ing my residence in New Orleans. The yellow fever 
raged violently in 1822, '24, '27, '28, '29, and '30. 
The epidemics that prevailed in '27, '28, '20, and 
'30 were extremely fatal. In 1829, more than nine 
hundred persons died from yellow fever alone ; yet 
no report of these awful visitations was published 
in the medical journals of the day. 

In the excessively warm summer of 1832, my 
strength was so much reduced, that a change of 
climate was prescribed by friends and physicians. I 
started with my family in a steamboat, bound for 
Cincinnati, intending to spend the remainder of the 
season at Niagara, Montreal, and Saratoga Springs. 
But when I reached Ohio, news came that the chol- 
era had made its appearance at Quebec and other 
places. 

It was travelling with great rapidity. In one 
short month this terrific pestilence walked unseen 
from the capital of Lower Canada westward to De- 
troit, and in a southern direction to Lake Champlain, 
Albany, and New York. It seemed to prefer follow- 



116 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

ing the courses of great rivers, like the St. Lawrence, 
Ohio, and Mississippi. 

Dr. Drake, of Cincinnati, expressed the opinion 
tliat within a few weeks the disease would break out 
in all our principal cities. Fearing that New Or- 
leans might be attacked during my absence, I imme- 
diately abandoned a journey which held out such 
an attractive prospect, and retraced my course down 
the river. I could not get rid of the presentiment 
that a period of unprecedented calamity impended 
over the Crescent City. The previous summer, in 
the month of August, a frightful tornado had swept 
over and inundated New Orleans. The Creoles said 
that this was the forerunner of some frightful pesti- 
lence. I proposed to leave Mrs. Clapp and the chil- 
dren with her aunt in Kentucky, till the overflowing 
scourge should pass through the land. But she 
declined acceding to the proposition, and quoted 
these memorable words of Scripture : " Whither 
thou goest, I will go ; and where thou lodgest, I will 
lodge ; thy people shall be my people, and thy God 
my God. Where thou diest will I die, and there 
will I be buried : tlie Lord do so to me, and more 
also, if aught but death part thee and me." 

We arrived at New Orleans, on our return home, 
about the 1st of September. The weather was 
most sultry and oppressive. To most of my friends 
our conduct appeared so unwise, that they hardly 
gave us a cordial welcome back. I said to them, 
" ' Though neither a prophet nor the son of a proiihct,' 
I see a dark cloud suspended over us, whicli will 
soon discharge a tempest of unparalleled violence 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 117 

and destruction." That very week, several cases of 
yellow fever occurred in the Charity Hospital and 
boarding houses along the levee. It soon grew into 
an epidemic, and carried off hundreds during this 
and the succeeding month. 

On the morning of the 25tli of October, 1832, as 
I was walking home from market, before sunrise, I 
saw two men lying on the levee in a dying condition. 
They had been landed from a steamboat which ar- 
rived the night before. Some of the watchmen had 
gone after a handbarrow or cart, on which they 
might be removed to the hospital. At first there 
was quite a crowd assembled on the spot. But an 
eminent physician rode up in his gig, and gazing a 
moment, exclaimed in a loud voice, " Those men liave 
the Asiatic cholera." The crowd dispersed in a mo- 
ment, and ran as if for their lives in every direction. 
I was left almost alone with the sufferers. They 
could speak, and were in full possession of their 
reason. They had what I afterwards found were 
the usual symptoms of cholera — cramps, convul- 
sions, &c. The hands and feet were cold and blue ; 
an icy perspiration flowed in streams ; and they com- 
plained of a great pressure upon their chests. One 
of them said it seemed as if a bar of iron was 
lying across him. Their thirst was intense, which 
caused an insufferable agony in the mouth and 
throat. They entreated me to procure some water. 
1 attempted to go on board the steamboat Avhich had 
put them on shore. But the staging had been drawn 
in to prevent all intercourse with people on the 
levee. Thence I returned, intending to go to the 



118 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

nearest dwelling to get some relief for the unhappy 
men, whom all but God had apparently deserted. 

At that instant the watchmen arrived with a 
dray. Happily, (because, perhaps, they spoke only 
the French language,) they had no suspicion that 
these strangers were suffering from the cholera. If 
I had pronounced that terrific word in their hearing, 
they too might have fled, and left the sick men to 
perish on the cold ground. I saw them placed on 
the vehicle, and subsequently learned that they 
were corpses before eleven o'clock A. M. the same 
day. 

I walked home, attempting to be calm and re- 
signed, determined to do my duty, and leave the 
consequences with God. I said nothing to my fam- 
ily about the sick men whom I had met, though they 
tliought it strange that I had taken so much more 
time than usual in going to and from the market, 
and observed that I looked uncommonly thoughtful 
and serious. I felt that the hour of peril had come. 
I said in silent, inward prayer, " God, thou art my 
refuge and fortress ; in tliee do I trust. 0, help me, 
and strengthen me, for vain is the help of man. 
His breath goeth forth ; he returneth to the dust ; in 
that very day his purposes perish. O, happy is the 
man that hath the living God for his help, whoso 
hope is in Jehovah his God." I felt a delightful 
sense of my dependence ; that Providence was my 
shield and buckler, and that nothing could befall me 
or my family, which, if we did our duty, woukl not 
work out results great and glorious beyond all 
thought and imagination. It seemed to me that, 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 119 

trusting in the Most High, I could trample under 
foot pain, sickness, death, and every other evil. 

The weather, this morning, was very peculiar. 
The heavens were covered with thick, heavy, damp, 
lowering clouds, that seemed like one black ceiling, 
spread over the whole horizon. To the eye, it almost 
touched the tops of the houses. Every one felt a 
strange difficulty of respiration. I never looked upon 
such a gloomy, appalling sky before or since. Not 
a breath of wind stirred. It was so dark, that in 
some of the banks, offices, and private houses, candles 
or lamps were lighted that day. 

Immediately after breakfast I walked down to the 
post office. At every corner, and around the prin- 
cipal hotels, were groups of anxious faces. As soon 
as they saw me, the question was put by several per- 
sons at a time, " Is it a fact that the cholera is in the 
city ? " I replied by describing what I had seen but 
two hours before. Observing that many of them ap- 
peared panic-struck, I remarked, " Gentlemen, do 
not be alarmed. These may prove merely what the 
doctors call sporadic cases. We do not yet know 
that it will prevail to an alarming extent. . Let us 
trust in God, and wait patiently the developments 
of another morning." 

That day as many persons left the city as could 
find the means of transmigration. On my way home 
from the post office, I walked along the levee, where 
the two cholera patients had been disembarked but 
three or four hours before. Several families in the 
ncighljorhood were making preparations to move, 
but in vain. They could not obtain the requisite 



120 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

vehicles. The same afternoon the pestilence entered 
their houses, and before dark spread through several 
squares opposite to the point where the steamer land- 
ed the first cases. 

On the evening of the 27th of October, it had made 
its way through every part of the city. During the 
ten succeeding days, reckoning from October 27 to 
the 6th of November, all the physicians judged that, 
at the lowest computation, there were five thousand 
deaths — an average of five hundred every day. 
Many died of wliom no account was rendered. A 
great number of bodies, with bricks and stones tied 
to the feet, were thrown into the river. Many were 
privately interred in gardens and enclosures, on the 
grounds where they expired, wdiose names were not 
recorded in the bills of mortality. Often I was 
kept in the burying ground for hours in succession, 
by the incessant, unintermitting arrival of corpses, 
over whom I was requested to perform a short 
service. One day, I did not leave the cemetery till 
nine o'clock at night ; the last interments were made 
by candle light. Reaching my house faint, exliaust- 
ed, horror-stricken, I found my family all sobbing 
and weeping, for they had concluded, from my long 
absence, that I was certainly dead. I never Avent 
abroad without kissing and blessing them all, with 
the conviction that we should never meet again on 
earth. After bathing and taking some refreshment, 
I started out to visit the sick. My door was thronged 
with servants, waiting to conduct me to the rooms of 
dying sufferers. In this kind of labor I spent most 
of the night. At three o'clock A. M., I returned 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 121 

home, threw myself down on a sofa, with directions 
not to be called till half past five. I was engaged 
to attend a funeral at six o'clock A. M,, 28tli Oc- 
tober. 

In the progress of my round on this occasion, I 
met with a case of cholera whose symptoms were 
unlike any thing that I had before witnessed. The 
patient was perfectly free from pain, with mental 
powers unimpaired, and suffering only from debility 
and moral apj)rcliensions. From his looks, I should 
have supposed that he was sinking under some kind 
of consumption, such as prevails at the north. He 
was an educated man, whose parents, when living, 
were members of the Presbyterian church. His will 
had just been made, and he believed himself to be 
dying, which was actually the case. I have said 
that his mind was uninjured ; more, it was quick- 
ened to preternatural strength and activity. 

When I took his hand in mine, he said, " TIic 
physicians assure me that I must soon die ; I am 
unprepared ; I look back with many painful regrets 
upon the past ; I look forward to the future with 
doubts, fears, and misgivings. What will become of 
me?" I replied, "What, sir, is your strongest 
wish ? " He answered, " That it may please God to 
forgive and save me, for Christ's sake." I added, 
" If this is the real wish of your heart, it will be grat- 
ified, no matter how wicked or unwortliy you may be. 
Is your father living ? " I inquired. He said, " No, 
sir ; I saw him breathe his last in my native home. 
He died happy, for he was good. Never shall I for- 
get that last prayer which ho uttered in behalf of his 
11 



122 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

surviving children." " Suppose," I continued, " you 
were absolutely certain that death would introduce 
you into the presence of that beloved parent, and 
that he would be empowered by the Infinite One to 
make you as happy as he pleased, and to receive you 
to his bosom and embrace forever ; would you not 
most willingly, joyfully, and with perfect confidence, 
commit your fate for eternity to the decision of such 
a pure, kind, affectionate father ? " He answered in 
the affirmative. I said, " Is it possible that you have 
so much confidence in an earthly parent, and at the 
same time can hesitate to commend your spirit into 
the hands of that heavenly Father, who loves you 
as much as he does himself, — whose love is tran- 
scendent, boundless, infinite, everlasting, — who can- 
not allow you to perish, any more than he could de- 
stroy himself? " 

" I see I am in an error," he exclaimed. " God, 
help me and strengthen me." I then made a short 
prayer. " Can you repeat with all your heart, as in 
the presence of God," I asked, " the words which I am 
about to utter ? If you can, say them aloud, along with 
me. ' My Father, who art in heaven, thou hast prom- 
ised that thou wilt evermore draw nigh to those who 
draw near to thee in true and earnest prayer ; that 
thou wilt hear their cry, fulfil their desires, and help 
them, and save them. Have pity upon me, God, 
according to thy loving kindness ; according to the 
multitude of thy tender mercies, hide thy face from 
my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities. Create 
within me, a clean heart, God ; renew within me 
a faithful spirit ; cast me not away from thy pres- 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 123 

ence, and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Carry 
me in thine almighty arms, and finally receive me 
into glory. Though my flesh and my heart fail, be 
thou, God, the strength of my heart, and my por- 
tion forever. These blessings I humbly implore in 
the worthy name of Jesus Christ our Saviour ; and 
unto Thee, the only wise God, the King eternal, im- 
mortal, and invisible, be ascribed praise and thanks- 
giving, glory and dominion, now and forevermore. 
Amen.' " 

Every word of this prayer he repeated after me in 
a distinct and audible voice. At the close, he ex- 
claimed, " It is finished ; " then gazing with a fixed 
eye, as upon some object on the ceiling over him, he 
said, " God be praised, I see my father." Doubting 
as to what he meant to say precisely, I asked, " What 
father do you see, jour heavenly or your earthly 
father?" He answered, " My earthly father. Can 
you not see him ? There he is, (pointing upwards,) 
smiling down upon me, arrayed in splendid garments, 
and beckoning me to follow him to the skies. He is 
going — he is gone." On the utterance of these 
words, his arm, which had been raised heavenward, 
fell lifeless, and he breathed not again. There was 
a smile, and expression of rapture on his face which 
lingered there for hours. It was the only good- 
looking corpse which I saw in that epidemic. His 
form was magnificent, his breast large and arched, 
his whole appearance that of statue-like repose. 
There he lay before me, as beautiful as life itself. 
His countenance wore such a smile of ecstasy, I 
could hardly realize that his immortal spirit had fled. 
I laid my hand on his heart. It moved not. 



12-1 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

This incident made a lasting impression on my 
mind. It deepened, it strengthened, immeasurably, 
my belief that the soul survives the body. " Who 
knows," said I to myself, " but every one of these 
hundreds that are dying around me, when they draw 
their last breath, are greeted by the disembodied 
spirits of those whom they knew and loved on earth, 
and who have come to convoy them to the scenes of 
a higher and nobler existence?" 

Shortly after this, I was standing by the bed of a 
young lady in her last moments, when she called to 
me and her mother, saying, " Do you not see my sis- 
ter (who had died of yellow fever a few weeks be- 
fore) there ? " pointing upwards. " There are angels 
with her. She has come to take me to heaven." 
Perhaps these facts are in harmony with the doc- 
trines of modern spiritualists. One thing I know. 
There is not a more delightful, sanctifying faith than 
this — that as soon as we die, glorified spirits will 
hover about us, as guardian angels, to breathe on 
our souls their own refinement, and to point our way 
to the heavenly mansions. 

The morning after the death scene which I have 
just described, at six o'clock, I stepped into a carriage 
to accompany a funeral procession to the cemetery. 
On my arrival, I found at the graveyard a large pile 
of corpses without coffins, in horizontal layers, one 
above the other, like corded wood. I was told that 
there were more than one hundred bodies deposited 
there. They had been brought by unknown per- 
sons, at different hours since nine o'clock the even- 
ing previous. Large trenches were dug, into which 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 125 

these uncoffiued corpses were thrown indiscrimi- 
nately. The same day, a private hospital was fonnd 
deserted ; the physicians, nurses, and attendants 
were all dead, or had run away. Not a living per- 
son was in it. The wards were filled with putrid 
bodies, which, by order of the mayor, were piled in 
an adjacent yard, and burned, and their ashes scat- 
tered to the winds. Could a wiser disposition have 
been made of them ? 

Many persons, even of fortune and popularity, 
died in their beds without aid, unnoticed and un- 
known, and lay there for days unburied. In almost 
every house might be seen the sick, the dying, and 
the dead, in the same room. All the stores, banks, 
and places of business were closed. There were no 
means, no instruments for carrying on the ordinary 
affairs of business ; for all the drays, carts, carriages, 
hand and common wheelbarrows, as well as hearses, 
were employed in the transportation of corpses, in- 
stead of cotton, sugar, and passengers. Words can- 
not describe my sensations when I first beheld the 
awful sight of carts driven to the graveyard, and 
there upturned, and their contents discharged as so 
many loads of lumber or offal, without a single mark 
of mourning or respect, because the exigency ren- 
dered it impossible. 

The Sabbath came, and I ordered the sexton to 
ring the bell for church at eleven o'clock A. M., as 
usual. I did not expect to meet a half a dozen per- 
sons ; but there was actually a congregation of two 
or three hundred, and all gentlemen. The ladies 
were engaged iu taking care of the sick. There was 
11 * 



126 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

no singing. I made a very short prayer, and 
preached a discourse not more than fifteen minutes 
in length. It made such an impression that several 
of the hearers met me at the door, and requested 
me to write it down for their perusal and meditation. 
I complied with the request. Here it is. My text 
was the passage found in Isaiah xxvi. 3 : " Thou 
wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed 
on thee, because he trusteth in thee." 

I began by rehearsing the closing lines of Bryant's 
" Thanatopsis : " — 

" ' So live, that when thy summons comes to join 
The innumerable caravan, Mhich moves 
To that mj-sterious realm, where each shall take 
His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
Thou go not like the quarry-slave at night, 
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him and lies down to pleasant dreams.' 

" My friends, death is a dispensation of love. Re- 
flect that as many persons die every hour as there 
are tickings of the clock in the same time. All die. 
Not only the idiot, the fool, and the reprobate, but 
also the best, wisest, and noblest, are laid in the 
grave. That law which sweeps over all, irrespective 
of moral character, cannot be a punitive infliction. 
]\[an would die if he were as spotless as an angel. 
Were it not for the grave, how soon Avould this 
globe be filled to absolute repletion ! V^'e die sim- 
ply that we may awake to a new and nobler exist- 
ence. We cease to live as men, that we may begin 
to live as angels. There is a certain animal that 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 127 

exists first in the shape of a worm. Its appropriate 
element is water. At length it sinks in insensibility 
and death. After a while, its grave opens ; it comes 
forth from the grovelling dust a new being, an in- 
habitant of the air, with beauteous wings and plu- 
mage, to bask in the sunbeams, to sip the aroma of 
the flowery world ; to move through the atmosphere, 
a creature of ethereal endowment and loveliness, 
lu the same manner, the soul of man must drop its 
" mortal coil," that, disengaged from earth, sense, 
and sin, it may be transformed into a being adapted 
to the scenes of a higher and incorruptible existence. 
Reflect upon the declaration of Jesus, that all 
who die shall be made immortal. He also teaches 
that in the immortal state they will sin no more, 
hunger no more, thirst no more, weep no more, die 
no more, but be like the angels of God in heaven. 
There is no difference between the good and the bad, 
as to the eternity of their duration. This is admitted 
by all orthodox divines of every school and denomi- 
nation. There is nothing frightful in death, except 
to the unenlightened imagination. It is the slightest 
evil that crosses the path of human life. Nay, 
rather, it is not an evil ; it is the greatest blessing. 
It is dust only that descends to dust. The grave 
is the place where we shall be permitted to lay down 
our mortality, weakness, diseases, sorrows, and sins, 
to enter upon a higher existence, with angels, and 
the spirits of the just made perfect. We arc taught 
by the apostle Paul that it is impossible for either sin 
or pain to go along with us into the unseen world. 
"There the weary are at rest." Glorious prospect! 



128 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

In the eternal state, there are no bodies, no sickness, 
no wants, no groans, no injustice, no forms of de- 
pravity. 

" Yes, my friends, if we looked at the subject 
aright, we should rejoice in the thought, that before 
another setting sun, before we reach our homes to- 
day, death may come to release us from these bur- 
dened, tempted, frail, failing, corruptible bodies, that 
we may enter upon the wonders of a life immortal, 
whose progressions will constantly increase, in the 
freshness, extent, beauty, and plenitude of divine, 
unfading, and unimaginable charms. Do not be 
alarmed, my friends ; death cannot hurt you. ' But,' 
you may ask, ' is there nothing for us to do, that we 
may die in peace ? ' Yes, in the language of Scrip- 
ture, ' you must cease to do evil, and learn to do 
well.' If you are conscious of living in the com- 
mission of any sin, however dear, you must resolve, 
before you rise from your seats, to renounce it for- 
ever, and cast yourselves on that boundless mercy, 
revealed by Him who is the conqueror over Death, 
and saith to us all, ' He tliat trustcth in me shall 

NEVER, NEVER DIE.' 

" Our eternal existence and bliss depend upon 
laws which we can neither create, cancel, nor mod- 
ify. They will be brought about in God's own time 
and way ; by influences just as resistless as those that 
produce day and night, the descent of rivers, the 
tides of the ocean, or the succession of the seasons. 
May the grace of our Lord Jesus Clirist, the love 
of God, and the fellowship of their Holy Spirit, be 
with you all, to-day and forever. Amen." 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 129 

111 the above homily, I stated what I sincerely be- 
lieved to be sound, scriptural views of death. Any 
doctrines calculated to inspire men with a dread of 
the grave are false, heathenish, and atheistical. 
The next day, a gentleman said to me, " I verily be- 
lieve that your sermon, yesterday, saved my life. I 
went into church frightened, weak, in utter despair ; 
I came out calm, resigned, full of hope, and able to 
tread cholera, death, and all other ills under my 
feet." 

For several days after this Sabbath, the plague 
raged with unabated violence. But the events, toils, 
trials, and gloom of one day, in this terrific visitation, 
were a facsimile of those that characterized the 
whole scene. A fatal yellow fever had been spread- 
ing destruction in the city six weeks before the chol- 
era commenced. Thousands had left it to escape 
this scourge. So that, at the time of the first chol- 
era, it was estimated that the population of the 
city did not exceed thirty-five thousand inhabitants. 
During the entire epidemic, at least six thousand per- 
sons perished ; showing the frightful loss of one sixth 
of the people in about twelve days. This is the most 
appalling instance of mortality known to have hap- 
pened in any part of the world, ancient or modern. 
Yet, in all the accounts of the ravages of this enemy, 
in 1832, published in the northern cities and Europe, 
its desolations in New Orleans are not even noticed — 
a fact which requires no comment. The same ratio 
of mortality in Boston, the next twelve days, would 
call for more than twenty-three thousand victims. 
Who can realize this truth ? The same epidemic 



130 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

broke out again the following summer, in June, 1833. 
In September of" the same year, the yellow fever 
came back again. So, within the space of twelve 
months, we had two Asiatic choleras, and two epi- 
demic yellow fevers, which carried off ten thousand 
persons that were known, and many more that were 
not reported. 

Multitudes began the day in apparently good 
health, and were corpses before sunset. One morn- 
ing, as I was going out, I spoke to a gentleman who 
resided in the very next house to mine. He was 
standing at his door, and remarked that he felt very 
well ; " but I wonder," lie added, " that you are 
alive." On my return, only two hours afterwards, 
he was a corpse. A baker died in his cart directly 
before my door. Near me there was a brick house 
going up ; two of the workmen died on a carpenter's 
bench, but a short time after they had commenced 
their labors for the day. Often did it happen that a 
jjcrson engaged a coffin for some friend, who himself 
died before it could be finished. On a certain even- 
ing, about dark, a gentleman called on me to say a 
short service over the body of a particular friend, 
just deceased : the next morning I performed the 
same service for him. I went, one Wednesday night, 
to solemnize the contract of matrimony between a 
couple of very genteel appearance. The bride was 
young, and possessed of the most extraordinary 
beauty. A few hours only had elapsed before I was 
summoned to perform the last offices over her coffin. 
She had on her bridal dress, and was very little 
changed in the appearance of her face. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 131 

Three unmarried gentlemen, belonging to my con- 
gregation, lived together and kept bachelor'' s hall, as it 
is termed witli us. I "was called to visit one of them 
at ten o'clock P. M. He lived but a few moments 
after I entered the room. Wliilst I was conversing 
with the survivors, a second brother was taken wdtli 
cramps. There was nobody in the house but the 
servants. They were especially dear to me be- 
cause of their intrinsic character, and because they 
were regular attendants at church. We instantly 
applied the usual remedies, but without success. 
At one o'clock in the morning he breathed his last. 
The only surviving brother immediately fell beside 
the couch of the lifeless ones, and at daylight he 
died. "We laid the three corpses side by side. 

One family, of nine persons, supped together in 
perfect health ; at the expiration of the next twenty- 
four hours, eight out of the nine were dead. A 
boarding house, that contained thirteen inmates, was 
absolutely emptied ; not one was left to mourn. 

Persons were found dead all along the streets, 
particularly early in the mornings. For myself, I 
expected that the city would be depopulated. I 
have no doubt, that if the truth could be ascertained, 
it would appear that those persons who died so sud- 
denly were affected with what are called the pre- 
monitory symptoms hours, perhaps a day, or a 
night, before they considered themselves unwell. In 
this early stage, the disease is easily arrested ; but 
when the cramps and collapse set in, death is, in 
most cases, inevitable. Indeed, that is death. Then, 
nothinft- was known of the cholera, and its antecedent 



132 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

stages were unnoticed and uncared for. Hence, in 
a great measure, the suddenness as well as the ex- 
tent of the mortality. 

Nature seemed to sympathize in the dreadful spec- 
tacle of human woe. A thick, dark atmosphere, as 
I said before, hung over us like a mighty funereal 
shroud. All was still. Neither sun, nor moon, nor 
stars shed their blessed light. Not a breath of air 
moved. A hunter, who lived on the Bayou St. 
John, assured me that during the cholera he killed 
no game. Not a bird was seen winging the sky. 
Artificial causes of terror were superadded to the 
gloom which covered the heavens. The burning of 
tar and pitch at every corner ; the firing of cannon, 
by order of the city authorities, along all the streets ; 
and the frequent conflagrations which actually oc- 
curred at that dreadful period, — all these conspired 
to add a sublimity and horror to the tremendous 
scene. Our wise men hoped, by the combustion of 
tar and gunpowder, to purify the atmosphere. We 
have no doubt that hundreds perished from mere 
fright produced by artificial noise, the constant sight 
of funerals, darkness, and various other causes. 

It was an awful spectacle to see night ushered in 
by the firing of artillery in different parts of the 
city, making as much noise as arises from the en- 
gagement of two powerful armies. The sight was 
one of the most tremendous which was ever pre- 
sented to the eye, or even exhibited to the imagina- 
tion, in description. Often, walking my nightly 
rounds, the flames from the burning tar so illumi- 
nated the city streets and river, that I could see every 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 133 

thing almost as distinctly as in tho daytime. And 
through many a windo^y into which was flung the 
sickly, flickering light of these conflagrations, could 
be seen persons struggling in death, and rigid, black- 
ened corpses, awaiting tho arrival of some cart or 
hearse, as soon as dawn appeared, to transport them 
to their final resting place. 

During these ineffable, inconceivable horrors, I 
was enabled to maintain my post for fourteen days, 
without a moment's serious illness. I often sank 
down upon the floor, sofa, or pavement, faint and 
exhausted from over-exertion, sleeplessness, and want 
of food ; but a short nap would partially restore me, 
and send me out afresh to renew my perilous labors. 
For a whole fortnight, I did not attempt to undress 
except to bathe and put on clean apparel. I was 
like a soldier, who is not allowed, by the constant 
presence of an enemy, to throw off his armor, and 
lay down his weapons for a single moment. Morn- 
ing, noon, and midnight, I was engaged in the sick 
room, and in performing services over the dead. 
The thought that I myself should be exempted from 
the scourge — how could it be cherished for a mo- 
ment ? I expected that every day would be my last. 
Yet, as I said before, I did not have the slightest 
symptom of the cholera. Two things render this 
fact very remarkable. 

First, I took no regular meals during all this time, 
and really suffered a great deal from hunger. Peo- 
ple stopped sending to market, and cooking, in a 
great measure. They were afraid to eat any sub- 
stantial food. One day, passing by the house of a 
12 



134 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

Spanish gentleman, a total stranger, I smelt some- 
thing savory, and took the liberty to go in. He, 
with two or three others, was dining. On the board 
there were shrimps, cabbage, and bacon, with a good 
supply of garlic. I told them who I was, and begged 
for something to eat. They treated me very kindly. 
I sat down, and gratified my appetite with fish, vege- 
tables, boiled ham, garlic, and a glass of gin, and 
then went on my way refreshed. Meeting a physi- 
cian at the next square, I told him what 1 had done. 
He exclaimed, " You are a dead man ; you will be 
attacked with the cholera in one hour." 

But I felt not the least inconvenience from the 
dinner I had eaten. I am satisfied that in cholera 
times, one may partake of any diet that he likes, in 
moderation, with perfect impunity. I have always 
acted on this belief. More are killed by medicine, 
starving, and fright, than from eating improper food. 
A mistaken opinion as to this subject has arisen from 
the fact that multitudes have been seized with chol- 
era directly after receiving a breakfast, dinner, or 
supper, and have immediately ejected their food as 
it was taken. Plence they have fancied that what 
they ate brought on sickness. No. One of the in- 
variable effects of the cholera is to suspend the pro- 
cess of digestion ; and of course one of tlie peculiar 
consequences of the disease is falsely ascribed to the 
deleterious influence of some species of food. To 
1)0 sure, gluttony and intemperance may bring on 
this epidemic ; but they are hurtful at all times. 

Secondly, my escape was wonderful, considered in 
another respect. For fifteen days in succession, the 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 135 

atmosphere was loaded with tlic most deadly malaria, 
and every species of" noxious inii)urity. I had to 
encounter not only the general insalubrity which 
always infects tlic air when cholera j)revails, hut to 
this were superadded the constant iidialations of 
the sick-bed eflluvium which emanates from corpses 
in every stage of decomposition, in which life had 
been extinct for days, perhaps, and the offensive 
smells of the cemetery. Most of the bodies laid in 
the ground had a covering of earth but a few inches 
in depth, and through the porous dust there was an 
unimpeded emission of all the gases evolved from 
animal matter, when undergoing the process of pu- 
trefaction. The sick poor were often crowded to- 
gether in low, narrow, damp, basement, unventilated 
rooms. 

Many times, on entering these apartments, and 
putting my head under the mosquito bar, I became 
deadly sick in a moment, and was taken with vomit- 
ing, which, however, passed off without producing 
serious effects in a single instance. Let the reader 
imagine a close room, in which are lying half a dozen 
bodies in the process of decay, and he may form a 
faint conception of the physical horrors in which 
I lived, moved, and had my being continually for 
two entire weeks. My preservation has always 
seemed to me like a miracle. It is true, some con- 
stitutions are not susceptible of the cholera. Some 
can never take the yellow fever or small i)OX. It is 
not improbable that my safety ought to be ascril)ed 
to some peculiar idiosyncrasy, which enabled me to 
breathe the air of this plague with impunity. 



136 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

111 1822, I knew an iinacclimatcd gentleman who 
slept on the same bed with an intimate friend, whilst 
he was sick of the yellow fever: on the morning 
of his death, he himself, his clothes, and the sheets, 
were absolutely inundated by a copious discharge of 
the vomito. After the funeral, he continued to oc- 
cupy the same room, and had the best health all that 
summer and autumn. During the next thirty 
years, he never left the city for a day, and was never 
sick. I have known numerous instances of the 
kind. Such phenomena doubtless result from natural 
causes ; yet they do not happen without the appoint- 
ment and providence of our heavenly Father. 

An atheist, in the midst of the first cholera, spoke 
to me, one day, tlie following words, in substance: 
" Mr. Clapp, you are laboring very hard among the 
sick and dying ; I admire your benevolent and self- 
sacrificing spirit ; you aid in imparting to the wretch- 
ed victims medicine, nursing, &c. By these material 
agencies, I believe you have already saved some lives. 
All this is achieved in harmony with the philosophi- 
cal relation of cause and effect. But do you really 
imagine that your prayers can accomplish any good 
whatever ? The cholera has a certain mission to 
fulfil. It will march forward to its destined goal, 
regardless of the chants of choirs, or the prayers of 
saints. Its movements are determined by blind, un- 
discriminating, and resistless laws. 

" When you ask God for favors in behalf of a sick 
man, which will be conferred upon him sooner or 
later by the operation of inevitable, necessary laws, 
your petitions are of course entirely useless. It is 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 137 

equally apparent, that when you implore that assist- 
ance of Heaven which cannot be granted consistently 
with the ordinances of nature, your prayers are ut- 
terly nugatory. They cannot avert the cholera, nor 
any of the innumerable ills to which we arc liable, 
any more than by a word you could stay the cat- 
aract of Niagara, or arrest the planets in their 
course." 

This gentleman was apparently as moral a man as 
I have ever met with. Just, sincere, self-denying, 
kind, exemplary in all his life and conduct, I re- 
spected his character and motives, and felt that I 
was bound to answer his interrogatories honestly. 
" In the first place," I replied, " we pray because we 
cannot help it, any more than we can help breathing. 
It is an irrepressible tendency of our nature. I have 
not seen a person die in this epidemic, in possession 
of his reason, who did not wish to have me pray for 
him. You cannot, by reasoning, prevent men from 
eating when they are hungry, or seeking the refresh- 
ment of nightly repose after the fatigues of the 
day. So neither can you dissuade them from pray- 
ing in scenes of sickness, trouble, and death. They 
want prayer just as much as they want the light and 
air of heaven. Now, suppose it to be in point of 
fact, philosophically considered, inefficacious ; still, 
it gives the sufferer, at least, temporary consolation. 
It makes him feel as if lie were in the hands of a 
Supreme Being, who will take care of him, the ever- 
blessed and only potentate — potentate over the laws 
of nature, over the events of time, sickness, death, and 
the grave. Call it a delusion, if you please ; yet it 
12 * 



138 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

inspires the dying man with a soothing and unfalter- 
ing trust, which enables him to meet a final hour 
with composure, feeling the triumphant assurance 
that though death must destroy his body, it cannot 
separate his immortal soul from God, from the soci- 
ety of spiritual beings, nor from eternal communion 
with a beauty and grandeur infinitely surpassing 
those of the visible, material creation. 

" Besides, I must say, that to me your reasoning 
is inconclusive. Your assertion is, that the universe 
is so organized, that the efficacy of prayer is an ab- 
solute impossibility. Now, prove it. Assertion is 
not proof. You take the ground that the laws of 
nature, forsooth, will not permit the Supreme to an- 
swer the just, sincere, devout, and reasonable peti- 
tions of his children. He is prevented from doing 
so by difficulties of his own creating. Allow me to 
ask, ' How do you know that such is the case ? Have 
you seen every thing ? Have you travelled quite 
through the regions of immensity ? Have you vis- 
ited all these worlds upon worlds that revolve in 
space ? Can you tell what " varied being peoples 
every star " ? Is your reason capable of receiving all 
truth ? Is your knowledge the measure of all that 
is possible in a boundless universe ? Can you stretch 
your inch of line across the theatre of our Creator's 
works ? ' Why, sir, you cannot prove it to be absurd 
for God to work miracles in answer to prayer. Yes, 
for the accomplishment of special purposes, and with 
reference to particular persons and exigencies. He 
may consistently, for aught we can show to the con- 
trary, actually suspend the laws of nature, cause 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 139 

heat to lower instead of raising the mercury of the 
thermometer, rivers to ascend on an inclined plain, 
water not to drown, poison not to kill, lire not to 
consume, and cold not to freeze. 

" But, waiving this point, to me it is plain, that with- 
out the aid of miracles the Almighty could answer 
prayer by the mere arrangement or instrumentality 
of nature's eternal and unchanging laws, as you call 
them. The power of arrangement simply may pro- 
duce results to us vast and immeasurable. Take as 
an example what in the scientific world is called 
galvanism. This, as you know, is in nature identi- 
cal with lightning. You are familiar with the ef- 
fects of this tremendous agent. You also are 
aware that it is a power awakened by the mere using 
of certain arrangements of various substances. If a 
finite being can achieve so much by wielding nature's 
laws in a particular direction, what cannot the Infi- 
nite One accomplish by similar means ? Remember 
that the cholera, or any other epidemic, is an effect. 
What is its cause ? >^onie substance, poison or ma- 
laria, (call it what you please,) imperceptible to tlie 
senses, of whose nature and pro[)crties we arc conse- 
(picntly ignorant. It is admitted that for every 
poison in nature there is an antidote : that is, some 
substance, which, if brought to bear upon it, can 
destroy or neutralize its deleterious tendencies. It 
is perfectly easy, then, for the ever-present, omnipo- 
tent Father, l^y the mere order or juxtaposition of 
different substances, to turn away disease, in answer 
to prayer from individuals, families, or cities. By 
the use of natural laws, it may please God to pre- 



140 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

serve me in this pestilence, which is now destroying 
hundreds on every side. Suppose that, with your 
limited intelligence, you had the power to arrange 
and direct the laws of nature throughout tlie State 
of Louisiana. In the exercise of such a commission, 
what could you not achieve ? You might raise its 
inhabitants to heaven, or sink them to perdition. 
How easy, then, would it be for the infinite mind, 
by similar means, to answer the prayers of his chil- 
dren, from the angel who bends before the glories of 
the unveiled throne, down to the humblest believer 
that treads these low vales of sin and sorrow ! De- 
pend upon it, nothing is more reasonable than the 
doctrine that God hears and answers prayer. On 
this topic nothing is more absurd than scepticism. 
The largest faith, as to this point, is nearest the 
truth." 

This argument against my unbelieving friend was 
strikingly illustrated and confirmed by what actually 
occurred in the city, a few days after our interview. 
The cholera had been raging with unabated fury for 
fourteen days. It seemed as if the city was destined 
to be emptied of its inhabitants. During tliis time, 
as before stated, a thick, dark, sultry atmosphere 
filled our city. Every one complained of a difficulty 
in breathing, which he never before experienced. 
The heavens were as stagnant as the mantled pool 
of death. There were no In^cezes. At the close of 
the fourteenth day, about eight o'clock in the 
evening, a smart storm, something like a tornado, 
came from tlie north-west, accompanied with heavy 
peals of thunder and terrific lightnings. Tlie deadly 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 141 

air was displaced immediately, by that wliicli was new, 
fresh, salubrious, aud life-giving. The next morn- 
ing shone forth all bright and beautiful. The plague 
was stayed. In the opinion of all the medical gen- 
tlemen who were on the spot, that change of weather 
terminated the epidemic. At any rate, it took its 
departure from us that very hour. No new cases 
occurred after that storm. It is certainly, then, in the 
power of God, not only by wind and electricity, but 
also by other means innumerable beyond our powers 
of discernment, to deliver a city from pestilence, in 
answer to the prayers of his children. Some one 
has said that " a little philosophy may make one an 
unbeliever, but that a great deal will make him a 
Christian." 

I think it very wrong to apply disparaging epithets 
to any person on account of his honest opinions on 
religious matters. A minister should never de- 
nounce, but he may discuss, and entreat with all 
long-suffering and forbearance. I said to this gen- 
tleman, as he was leaving me, " Your philosophy 
may be right and mine wrong. You are a higidy 
gifted man. I bow to the superiority of your genius. 
You are wise, prudent, and sagacious, as to all mat- 
ters appertaining to the present world. You are no- 
ble and upright in your secular plans and enterprises. 
Yet allow me to assure you that, by neglecting com- 
munion with God in habitual prayer, you suffer a 
loss, a diminution of happiness, that no words of 
mine can depict. There is a higher wisdom in 
heaven and earth ' than is dreamt of in your philos- 
ophy.' Prayer would -make you a happier being. 



142 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

Prayer would impart to you, amid the mournful 
vicissitudes and trials of earth, a deep, calm, and 
immovable peace — a prelibation of that which is en- 
joyed in the spirit-land of the blessed and immortal." 

The young man with whom I had the above collo- 
quy was the son of a Presbyterian clergyman. He 
manifested great respect and love for his father, but 
complained that he would never allow him to reason 
about religion. He actually supposed that all the 
follies and absurdities of Calvinism were taught in 
the Bible. " I cannot believe in such a book," he 
said. I replied, " Neither could I, if your supposi- 
tion were correct. But I cannot find a distinguish- 
ing doctrine of the Calvinistic system in the Scrip- 
tures." 

It is a curious fact, that though this man died in 
unbelief, yet he sent for me to visit him on his death 
bed. He fell a victim of the second cholera, which 
occurred in June, 1833. Entering his room I found 
him in perfect possession of his faculties. He said, 
" I am about to die. My belief is unchanged. 
I hold that man is nothing after death. Yet 
I look upon my decease with no apprehension. I 
have no solicitude and no regrets. I am in peace 
with all the world. To me existence has been a 
great blessing. But I am willing to take my exit 
from the stage of life, to afford room for a successor. 
I shall soon close my eyes, never again to open them ; 
never again to gaze on this beautiful and magnificent 
universe. I have sent for you because I love and 
respect you. I also wanted to have you see with 
what calm, conscious serenity I can submit to my fate. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 143 

' Like bubbles on a sea of matter borne, 
"We rise and break, and to that sea retvu'n.' " 

"Do you indeed love my society?" I inquired. 
" Now, suppose it was optional with you, when you 
die, either to be annihilated, or, leaving behind your 
lifeless dust, to pass off to a world destined to enjoy 
forever the highest means of both physical and men- 
tal happiness, where sin, pain, want, sorrow, and 
trouble cannot enter, where you would meet all the 
lost and loved ones of earth, to be separated from 
them no more, and where you would rise from one 
scene of knowledge, refinement, and bliss to another 
without ever reaching the ultimate boundary of im- 
provement. You like to see me here — would you 
not like to see me hereafter ? " 

" I confess," he replied, " that a conscious, intelli- 
gent, continued, ever-progressive existence is the 
most glorious destiny which we can conceive of. 
It is a captivating ideal. It is so lovely that men 
cling to it in defiance of reason and argument. I 
conceive that we are so organized that we cannot 
help loving and longing for immortality." 

" Do you not remember," I continued, " the lines 
of Addison, — 

' 'Tis the divinitj' that stirs within us ; 
'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, 
And intimates eternity to man.' 

Again allow me to recall to your recollection the 
words of the poet, whom you just now quoted, — 

' He sees why nature plants in man alone 
Hope of known bliss, and faith in bliss unknown ; 
Nature, whose dictates to no other kind 
Are given in vain, but what they seek they find.' " 



144 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

" Yes," he went on to say, "poets and preachers 
agree in their charming descriptions of a higher and 
heavenly hfe beyond this vale of tears. But every 
grave which is dug refutes their unfounded theo- 
ries." I then suggested this thought. " You hold 
that there is no God ; that some blind, unintelligent, 
resistless law caused you to be born, to grow up, to 
go through the mingled allotments of the past, and 
will, in a few moments, command you back to mix 
again with the elements whence you were taken. 
Now, what evidence have you that this same stern, 
unrelenting influence may not cause you, after 
death, (according to the metempsychosis taught by 
Pythagoras,) to enter the body of some brute, or to 
sink to lower and lower degrees of wretchedness 
throughout eternity ? If we are not in the hands of 
a Father whose attributes are infinite love, wisdom, 
and power, then we have nothing to hope for, and 
the worst to fear, then the doctrine of endless mis- 
ery, which your good, venerable parent believed in, 
may turn out to be true at last." 

As I perceived that he was fast declining, I stopped 
the conversation at this point, and requested the fa- 
vor of bidding him farewell, as I did all my dying 
friends, by rehearsing a few texts of Scripture, and of- 
fering a prayer. I opened the Bible, and pronounced 
some sentences from different chapters, giving what I 
believed to be the true sense of the original, in my 
own words. " Jesus Christ has abolished death, and 
brought life and immortality to light in the gospel. 
For we know that when our earthly tabernacles shall 
be dissolved, we shall enter a building of God, an 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 145 

house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 
As the children of Adam must all descend to the 
tomb, so they must all one day be made alive in 
Christ. The future state will be the complete an- 
tithesis of the present. 

" This side the grave all men arc mortal ; beyond 
it, they will all be immortal. Here, all are corrupti- 
ble ; there, all will be incorruptible. Here, all are 
in a greater or less degree sinful ; there, all will be 
holy. Here, all are weak ; there, all will be strong, 
incapable of fatigue or infirmity. Here, all are de- 
based ; there, all will be made glorious. All who 
die, both good and bad, just and unjust, shall be 
raised up again, and admitted to a resurrection state. 
And in that resurrection state, they shall liunger no 
more, thirst no more, weep no more, sin no more, 
die no more, but be as the angels of God in heaven. 
And there shall be no more curse, but the throne of 
God and the Lamb shall triumph over all evil." 

This reading was followed by a prayer, in nearly 
the following Avords : " My Father, who art in 
heaven, I commend this beloved friend, from whom 
I am soon to be separated for a short time, to thy 
infinite love and mercy, through Jesus Christ our 
Lord. I thank thee for the assurance that he can- 
not be crushed nor hurt by the forces of time, nature, 
deatli, or the grave. I bless thee for the revelation 
of the gospel, that his soul is a germ of thine own 
infinite, eternal, uncreated, and unchanging life ; 
that therefore it must live, and advance in knowl- 
edge, worth, brightness, and beatitude, long as thy 
ever-blessed throne shall endure. Amen." At the 
13 



146 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

conclusion, he exclaimed, with a feeble but distinct 
voice, " So mote it be. I fear nothing." He spoke 
not again. Fifteen minutes afterwards, his pulse 
ceased to beat. 

I cannot believe that this man was insincere in the 
views which he expressed concerning the soul's ever- 
lasting extinction. He gave every evidence of an 
undoubting assurance in the reality of those opinions 
which he avowed. He led a most moral, upright, 
and charitable life. He did not disbelieve on account 
of his great wickedness, nor because he was afraid 
of punishment in a future state, according to the 
usual representations of the pulpit. He was alto- 
gether too intelligent and noble to be actuated by a 
principle so debasing. His was a mind singularly 
earnest, honest, and conscientious. He met the final 
scene in this brief drama of existence with an un- 
shaken equanimity, and expired as calmly as an 
infant falls to sleep in its mother's arms. I go so 
far as to say, that he left the world in the exercise 
of a humble and Christian spirit. As he was breath- 
ing his last, the image conveyed in the following 
stanza was forcibly impressed on my mind : — 

" How sweet the scene when good men die, 

When noble souls retire to rest ! 
How mildly beams the closing eye, 

How calmly heaves th' expiring breast ! 
So fades a summer cloud away ; 

So sinks a gale, when storms are o'er ; 
So gently shuts the eye of day ; 

So dies a wave along the shore." 

In all my experiences, I never saw an unbeliever 
die in fear. I have seen them expire, of course, 



REV. THEODORE ("LAPP. 147 

without any hopes or expectations, but never in agi- 
tation from dread, or niis^givings as to what might 
befall them hereafter. I know that clergymen gen- 
erally assert that this final event passes with some 
dreadful visitation of unknown, inconceivable agony, 
over the soul of the departing sinner. It is imagined 
that in his case the pangs of dissolution are dread- 
fully aggravated by the upbraidings of a guilty con- 
science, and by the unwillingness, the reluctance of 
the spirit to be torn with ruthless violence from its 
mortal tenement, and hurried by furies into the pres- 
ence of an avenging Judge. But this is all a picture 
of superstitious fancy. It is probable that I have 
seen a greater number of those called irreligious 
persons breathe their last, than any clergyman in the 
United States. Before they get sick, the unaccli- 
mated are often greatly alarmed ; but when the en- 
emy seizes them, and their case is hopeless, they 
invariably either lose their reason, or become calm, 
composed, fearless, and happy. This fact is a strik- 
ing illustration of the benevolence of our Creator. 
If men's minds were not disturbed by false and mis- 
erable teachings, they would not suffer in death any 
more than they do when they fall asleep at night. 
Death is called a sleep in Scripture. " Death is the 
sleep of the weary. It is repose — the body's re- 
pose, after the busy and toilsome day of life is over." 
Even the convulsive struggles of the dying are not 
attended with pain, any more than the sobs and 
groans with which we sometimes sink into the slum- 
bers of nightly rest. This is proved by the testi- 
mony of those who have been resuscitated after they 



148 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

became cold and pulseless, and restored again to life 
and breath. Their agonies were all seeming, not 
real, they tell iis. 

Persons without religion often die uttering words 
which indicate what are their strongest earthly loves 
or attachments, their " ruling passion." A young 
man of my acquaintance was once in that stage of the 
yellow fever superinduced by the beginning of mor- 
tification. Then the patient is free from pain, some- 
times joyous, and very talkative. The individual I 
am speaking of was perfectly enamoured of novel 
reading. One of Walter Scott's romances was daily 
expected in New Orleans. Not many minutes before 
his death, it was brought to his bed by a friend 
whom he had sent to procure it. It was placed in 
his hands, but he was no longer able to see printing. 
The pages of the book, and the faces of his friends, 
were growing dim around him. He exclaimed, " I 
am blind ; I cannot see ; I must be dying ; must I 
leave this new production of immortal genius un- 
read ? " His last thought was dictated by his favor- 
ite pursuit and passion. Men must carry into the 
other world the character which they possess at the 
moment of death. 

I knew another gentleman, whose admiration for 
the Emperor Napoleon amounted to a monomania. 
He had collected all the biographies, histories, and 
other works tending to illustrate his life and charac- 
ter. This one theme liad taken such exclusive pos- 
session of his mind, that he could neither think nor 
converse on any other subject. He was taken with 
the yellow fever. I went to see him when he was 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 149 

near his end. I took him by the hand, and hardly- 
had time to speak, before he asked me what I thought 
of the moral character of Napoleon. The gentlemen 
standing by could not suppress a smile. I replied, 
that according to the representations of Las Casas, 
and others most intimately acquainted with him, 
Bonaparte was a firm believer in God, a divine prov- 
idence, Jesus Christ, and immortality ; and that it 
gave me great pleasure to believe in the correctness 
of their statements. He was of course delighted 
with the answer given. I read from the Bible. I 
then asked him if there were any particular subjects 
or favors which he would have embraced in my 
prayer. He answered, " There is but one blessing 
which I crave of Infinite Goodness — that after 
death, I may be conducted to those celestial regions 
where I can enjoy the sight and society of the great- 
est and best man who has lived — the late Emperor 
of France." Poor man ! He could think of no 
higher, no nobler destiny. 

It would be well were all to remember that groat, 
glorious thoughts, habitually cherished, spontane- 
ously fill the mind in a dying hour, to bear it aloft 
and buoyant over the dark gulf. 

In all my experiences in New Orleans, I have met 
with no dying persons who were terrified, except 
church members who had been brought up in the 
Trinitarian faith. Let me not be misunderstood. I 
do not mean to insinuate that these individuals were 
not good Christians. They were perfectly sincere, 
and this very sincerity was the cause of their fear 
and apprehensions. One, to whom I allude, em- 
13* 



150 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

braced the Calvinistic doctrine of election. He Avas 
a just, conscientious, most excellent man. I knew 
him intimately. His last words were, " I have no 
hope ; all is dark. There is a bare possibility that I 
may be saved." This was the language of honesty. 
For he held that salvation would be conferred upon 
only a part of mankind, elected to this destiny by a 
decree of God — eternal, immutable, and altogether 
irrespective of character and works, and all the 
remainder would be doomed to eternal woe, without 
any regard to their merit or demerit. No honest 
man, with such a creed, could die without the great- 
est dread and anxiety. For if God has inflexibly 
determined to destroy a portion of his children, 
however pure and good they may be, no one can 
know absolutely, from his character, that he is 
among the saved ; no one can feel certain of en- 
joying final, everlasting happiness. 

When I first entered the clerical profession, I was 
struck with the utter insufficiency of most forms of 
Christianity to afford consolation in a dying hour. 
Paul says, the revelation of Jesus was given " to 
deliver those, who, through fear of death, were all 
their lifetime subject to bondage." Ancient pagan 
literature invariably represents death as the greatest 
calamity of human existence ; it was denominated the 
stern, terrible, insatiate, cold, bitter, merciless " foe." 
It was the avenue to an eternal night ; where the fair, 
the venerated, and the loved would be lost beyond 
recovery. If all this were true, wc might justly 
say, " Speak not to us of consolation ; there is no 
consolation ; there is no support for such a lot as 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 151 

ours ; nothing but dulness can bear it ; nothing but 
stupidity can tolei-atc it ; and nothing but idiocy 
could be indifferent to it." Jesus came into the 
world to announce tlie sublime doctrine that no one 
ever was, or ever will be, injured by death ; that 
death is not so much as the interruption of existence ; 
that death, indeed, is only death in appearance, 
while in reality the sjnrit's life is progressive, ever 
continued, and immortal. 

Whoever, then, advocates those views of death, 
the belief of which tends to make its recipients 
afraid to die, ignores the messages of the gospel on 
this momentous theme. The great prominent truth 
of the Bible is, that, in every instance, " the day of 
one's death is better than the day of his birth." 
All these efforts to make death a scarecrow, to 
frighten men into the church, are as low and de- 
basing as they are irrational and anti-Christian. 
Death is not the enemy, but the friend, of man. 

Not the blue sky, not the richest landscape, not 
the flowers of spring, not all the charms of music, 
poetry, eloquence, art, or literature, present to our 
contemplation any thing so lovely and magnificent as 
death and its consequences, viewed through the tel- 
escope of the New Testament. Yet almost all the 
clergy, for fifteen hundred years, have employed their 
utmost genius, learning, and oratory to portray, in 
colors so appalling, that nobody who believes them 
can think upon the grave but with the deepest dread, 
dejection, and horror. It would be quite as wise to 
bring up our children atheists, as to corrupt their 
minds with the apprehension that the dissolution of 



152 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

the body may conduct them to everlasting evil. It 
would be better, safer every way, for our children to 
believe in annihilation, than in endless misery. 

In the cholera of June, 1833, the disease lirst in- 
vaded our own family circle. Two daughters, the 
eldest four, and the youngest two years of age, died 
about the same time. I was so fortunate as to pro- 
cure a carriage, in which their bodies were conveyed 
to a family vault, in the Girod cemetery, which had 
been constructed and presented to me, some years 
before, by the trustees of Christ Church, Canal 
Street — a church characterized for large, generous, 
and noble sympathies. I rode in the carriage alone 
with the two coffins. There was not a soul present 
but myself, to aid in performing the last sad offices. 
Host desolate and heavy was my heart, at the 
thought that they had left us to come back no 
more, — 

" No more would nm to lisp their sire's return, 
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share." 

The chastening hand of the great Ordainer was so 
heavy upon me, that, chilled and discouraged, I 
should have sunk into the gulf of utter scepticism, 
without the supporting hope of meeting the lost and 
loved ones again, in a brighter and better world. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 153 



CHAPTER VII. 

CHANGE IN MY THEOLOGICAL OPINIONS AND STYLE OF 
PREACHING. — LIBERAL COURSE PURSUED BY THE CON- 
GREGATION, WITH RESPECT TO THESE MODIFICATIONS. 

GENEROUS MANNER IN WHICH I WAS TREATED BY 

MY PRESBYTERIAN AND OTHER TRINITARIAN BRETH- 
REN IN THE MINISTRY. 

It is a truism among all tlio learned of the present 
day, that religious faith is protluecd by infiuences 
which we can neither create nor destroy. An hon- 
est man is no more accountable for his belief than 
he is for the movements of his heart and lungs, the 
features of his face, color of his hair. In general, it 
may be said that faith is the result of evidence. In 
some cases, it is brought about through those exer- 
cises of the mind which are by nature unavoidable. 
Thus faith in a great First Caiise, in the existence 
of the soul, in justice, and immortality, is insepara- 
ble from human nature. It is not less essential to 
man, than to possess the prerogatives of perception, 
speech, memory, hope, fear, and desire. But many 
forms of faith are created by one's voluntary efforts. 
For example : faith in the Bible, in phrenology, 
mesmerism, homoeopathy, democratic institutions, 
the Copcruican system, geology, &c., is acquired 
by observation, study, and research. 

In examining and weighing the facts and evidence 
appertaining to these subjects, one may bo fair or 
unfair, just or imjust, impartial or prejudiced. If a 



154 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

man investigate Christianity itself, with no other 
motive than an earnest and sincere desire to obtain 
the trutli, and honestly comes to the conclusion that 
it is false, he is not to blame for such a conclusion. 
He cannot help it any more than he can avoid the 
belief that two are less tlian eight. 

When I entered the ministry, many of my opin- 
ions, though sincerely held, rested only on the prin- 
ciple of implied faith, or authority. In New Orleans, 
I liad to encounter just, wise, and noble men, belong- 
ing to each of the different denominations in Chris- 
tendom. For some years after my settlement, I was 
invited, almost every Sabbath, to preach on some 
particular subject. This fact imposed upon me the 
necessity of looking into tlie foundation of many 
doctrines, whose truth I had always before taken for 
granted. Hence I became a very hard student. 
When not engaged in out-door vocations, I was 
constantly occupied with my books and studies, in 
order to prepare myself for a wide and almost 
boundless range of pulpit discussion. 

One day, it was incumbent to prove that Samson 
actually lived, and performed the extraordinary feats 
recorded in the book of Judges. The next Svmday, 
I was called to explain the cherubim and the four 
wheels, in the first chapter of Ezekiel, or the deluge, 
or the destruction of the Canaanites, or Jonah and 
the fish, or the case of Sliadrach, Meshecli, and 
Abednego, wlio came out unhurt from the midst of 
the burning, fiery furnace. Every biblical difficulty 
was brought to me for solution, and it was my 
especial province to elucidate all the dogmas which 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 155 

have been professedly derived from the sacred vol- 
ume since the days of Tcrtullian. I noticed, indeed, 
no invitations but those which had the stamp of 
respectable names, and such as I had reason to believe 
were dictated by a worthy desire to obtain knowledge, 
and promote the advancement of Christian truth. 
These efforts to meet the wants of those who had a 
right to call on me for spiritual information enlarged 
my views, changed and rectified many of the opin- 
ions which had been imbibed from venerable teach- 
ers, and opened to me wonders and beauties which 
I never should have seen, had my life been passed 
in the regular, quiet, prescribed routine of ministe- 
rial duties in a New England parish. 

I will illustrate this remark by relating an inci- 
dent. The only university in Louisiana, at the time 
of my settlement there, was located in New Orleans. 
From the beginning, all the presidents, professors, 
and officers of the institution, had been of French 
extraction, either Creoles or foreigners. One of the 
most popular and efficient members of the board of 
administrators was an English gentleman, of splendid 
talents and acquirements. It was his wish to place 
some northern man at the head of this college, " in 
order," as he said, " to Americanize its usages, stud- 
ies, and course of discipline." 

The pastor of the Presbyterian church was recom- 
mended to him as a person qualified to fill the office. 
This was done without my knowledge or consent. 
It happened in the spring of 1824, Judge W. — the 
gentleman above mentioned — came to church one 



156 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

Sunday morning to hear mc preach, not (as he after- 
wards said) because he felt any interest about my re- 
hgious tenets, but to form a general estimate of my 
abilities as an orator and scholar. The subject of the 
sermon on that occasion was the horrid dogma of 
endless punishment. It was taken up at the partic- 
ular request of a lady, whose husband undisguis- 
edly and strongly repudiated the doctrine. She said 
that he was a model of every yirtue that could 
adorn home or society at large, but all this would 
be of no avail, unless he became a disciple of Christ. 
To become a Christian, and to embrace the Calvin- 
istic creed, were things, in her judgment, perfectly 
coincident. For myself, I then thouglit that the 
doctrine of eternal suffering was true, and that a 
belief of it exerted a most salutary influence on the 
heart and life of its recipient. " Most happy," said 
the good lady, " shall I be, if you succeed in rec- 
onciling my husband to this solemn, sublime article 
of the Christian faith." 

At the outset, I told the hearers that this doctrine 
was inexplicable to human reason ; that it was based 
entirely on the authority of revelation. So I con- 
fined myself simply to a rehearsal of those texts, 
which, as I imagined, taught the eternity of future 
woe. After the audience had dispersed, Judge W. 
remained, and was introduced to me. We walked 
home together. I found him learned, liberal, pol- 
ished, and courtly in his manners. In the course 
of our conversation he remarked that he had once 
studied the sul>jcct on which I had been preaching. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 157 

with special attention. It happened thus : After leav- 
ing the university, he endeavored to prepare himself 
for taking holy orders in the Episcopal church. But 
it was out of his power to find the doctrines of tlie 
Trinity, the vicarious atonement, endless punish- 
ment, plenary inspiration, and some other articles 
in the Bible. He therefore abandoned the idea of 
obtaining ordination, and became a student in one 
of the Inns of Court, London. Judge W. was a 
superior linguist, and well versed in the original 
Scriptures. 

When parting with me that morning, he said, " Mr. 
Clapp, I have a particular favor to ask. You told us 
in the sermon just delivered that there are hundreds 
of texts in the Bible which affirm, in the most un- 
qualified terms, that all those who die in their sins 
will remain impenitent and unholy through the ages 
of eternity. I will thank you to make me out a list 
of those texts in the original Hebrew and Greek. 
That some of such an import occur in our English 
version is undeniable ; but I think they are mis- 
translations. I do not wish to put you to the trouble 
of multiplying Scripture proofs touching tliis point. 
Two, five, or ten will be amply sufficient." I replied, 
" Judge, it will give me great pleastire to grant your 
request. I can furnish you with scores of them be- 
fore next Sunday." He smiled, saying, " I do not 
deny it," and politely bade me good morning. I 
was perfectly confident that the judge would be con- 
vinced that ho had most egregiously misunderstood 
and misinterpreted the word of God. I rejoiced in 
the thought of his speedy discomfiture. 
14 



158 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

" For fools rush in where angels fear to tread ; 
Distrustful sense with modest caution speaks ; 
It still looks home, and short excursions makes ; 
But rattling nonsense in full volleys breaks, 
And never shocked, and never turned aside. 
Bursts out, resistless, with a thundering tide." 

The very next day, Monday, before going out, I 
made, as I thought, the best arrangements for col- 
lecting the proof texts which had been solicited. A 
table was set in one corner of my study, well fur- 
nished with the appropriate books — lexicons, He- 
brew and Greek, concordances, commentaries, Eng- 
lish, Latin, and German, with standard works on the 
Pentateuch, the history and antiquities of the Jew- 
ish nation. I had no authorities in my library but 
those which were of the highest repute among Trin- 
itarians of every denomination. With the help of 
Gaston's Collections and the references in the Larger 
Catechism of the Presbyterian Church, the access 
was easy to all the passages of Scripture which are 
relied on to prove the doctrine of endless sin and 
sorrow. 

I began with the Old Testament in Hebrew, com- 
paring it as I went along with the Septuagint and 
English version. I hardly ever devoted less than an 
hour each day to this branch of my studies, and 
often I gave a whole morning to it. Having been 
elected to the presidency of the New Orleans col- 
lege, I was in the enjoyment of constant intercourse 
with Judge W. Almost every week he inquired, 
" Have you discovered yet the proof texts which you 
promised to give me ? " I replied, " No, judge, I 
am doing my best to find them, and will accommo- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 159 

date you at as early a period as possible." During 
tliat and the succeeding year I read critically every 
chapter and verse of the Hebrew Scriptures, from 
Genesis to Malachi. My investigations were as 
thorough and com})letc as I could possibly make 
them. Yet I was unable to find therein so mucli as 
an allusion to any suffering at all after death. In 
the dictionary of the Hebrew language I could not 
discover a word signifying licll, or a place of ])unisli- 
ment for the wicked in a future state. In the Old 
Testament Scriptures there is not, as I believe, a 
single text, in any form of phraseology, which holds 
out to the finally impenitent threats of retribution 
beyond the grave. To my utter astonishment, it 
turned out that orthodox critics of the greatest 
celebrity were perfectly familiar with these facts. I 
was compelled to confess to my friend that I could 
not adduce any Hebrew exegesis in support of the 
sentiment that evil is eternal. 

Still, I was sanguine in my expectations that the 
New Testament would furnish me with the argu- 
ments which I had sought for without success in the 
writings of Moses and the prophets. I scrutinized, 
time and again, whatever in the Gospels, the Acts, 
and the Epistles, are supposed to have any bearings 
upon the topic, for the space of eight years. The 
result was, that I could not name a portion of New 
Testament Scripture, from the first verse of JMat- 
thew to the last of the Apocalypse, which, fairly in- 
terpreted, affirms tliat a part of mankind will bo 
eternally miserable. But the opposite doctrine, that 
all men will be ultimately saved, is taught in scores 



160 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

of texts, which no art of disingenuous interpretation 
can explain away. Here I should say that at the 
time above mentioned I had never seen or read any 
of the writings of the Unitarian or Universalist 
divines, not even those of Dr. Channing, with the 
exception, perhaps, of one or two occasional dis- 
courses that had been sent to me through the post 
office. During the whole ten years my studies were 
confined to the original Hebrew and Greek Scrip- 
tures, and the various subsidiary works which are 
required for their elucidation. My simple, only 
object was to ascertain what '^ saith the LorcV con- 
cerning the final destination of the wicked. It is 
an important, most instructive fact, that I was 
brought into my present state of mind b}^ the instru- 
mentality of the Bible only — a state of mind run- 
ning counter to all the prejudices of early life, of 
parental precept, of school, college, theological semi- 
nary, and professional caste. 

My circumstances at the time furnish conclusive 
proof that I could not have been actuated by any 
selfish, mercenary, or improper motives whatever. 
I was well aware how much was hazarded by ven- 
turing to interpret the Bible for myself; that tlie 
public proclamation of the results which had been 
forced upon me would call down tlie severest anath- 
emas of the church ; that, naked and almost alone, 
I should encounter the bristling spears of tliat large 
army, which, though it repudiates the use of the 
wheel, the rack, and gibbet, still employs, for the 
purpose of preventing free inquiry, the more cruel 
engines of scorn, contempt, obloquy, and misrepre- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 161 

sentation. It is sad to think that if in this land of 
boasted freedom a clergyman feels bound, in con- 
science, to interpret the Scriptures differently from 
the majority of the denomination to which he be- 
longs, it is impossible to follow his private judgment 
without imperilling his good name, his standing in 
the ministry, and even his Christian character, Avith- 
out being driven like chaff before the storm of pop- 
ular prejudice and persecuting clamor. 

From this account the reader will perceive my 
meaning, in the remark that faith is, in a great 
measure, produced by causes which are entirely 
above and beyond human control. In March, 1824, 
it became my duty in the pulpit to avow a faith 
which ten years afterwards I was compelled by the 
providence of Almighty God to repudiate. I say 
Divine Providence constrained me to adopt this 
course ; for my introduction to Judge W., his com- 
ing to hear me preach, the particvdar theme dis- 
cussed on that occasion, the request which led to a 
new and thorough examination of the Scriptures, 
and to a decided revolution in my theological views, 
were the appointments of the Infinite Intelligence. 
As a parent takes his feeble, tottering child by the 
hand, when treading a rough, difficult path, so 
Heaven was pleased to guide me through the mazes 
of error and superstition, in which I had wandered 
from childhood, into the broad, beautiful fields of 
evangelical truth. 

On the first Sabbath of July, 1834, I proclaimed 
distinctly from the pulpit, for the first time, my firrq 
conviction that the Bible does not teach the doctrine 
14* 



162 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

of eternal punishment. It was the happiest day that 
I had ever experienced. I felt that now I could vin- 
dicate the ways of God to man. I felt that revealed 
religion, like the stars of the firmament, reflected 
the glories of our Creator. I kept repeating to my- 
self for weeks the following lines : — 

" And darkness and doubt arc flying away ; 

No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn ; 
So breaks on the traveller, faint and astray, 

The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn. 
See Truth, Love, and Mercy in triumph descending, 

And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom ; 
On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending, 

And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb." 

Some of my friends wonder that I should be so 
much attached to New Orleans. One reason is, that 
it is endeared by those sacred associations which 
assure me that my origin is divine, and my destina- 
tion eternal life. It is natural that I should love a 
place where I was permitted, for the first time, to 
catch glimpses and revelations of the infinitely Beau- 
tiful — where, amid perplexities, discouragement, 
and despair, the Holy Spirit came to my relief, and 
enabled me to gaze upon the outspreading glories of 
an everlasting, universal Father, the unchanging, 
almighty Friend of man, however low, fallen, dark, 
or depraved ; the place where, in the twinkling of 
an eye, I became a new man, was born again, and 
with indescribable rapture looked out upon another 
and more glorious universe than that which addresses 
the senses. 

Yes, it was in the Crescent City, (and I can never 
forget it,) not in my native place, not in New Ha- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 163 

ven, Boston, or Andover, but in New Orleans, where 
I learned to take shelter from all the ills with which 
earth can assail us, under the brooding wings of In- 
effable Goodness. Yes, there, amid " the pestilence 
that walketh in darkness and the destruction that 
wasteth at noonday," it was my privilege to feel the 
heart of Infinite Love beating close to my heart, and 
to be assured that it will throb forever through all 
the pulses of my mental and deathless being. Can I 
ever forget the place or time when I actually felt the 
arms of everlasting Power, Wisdom, and Benefi- 
cence clasping me about as the fond mother hugs the 
babe to her bosom to soothe its grief and hush its 
sighs ? To me the mysterious problem of life was 
solved on the banks of the Mississippi. There I was 
first led to repose on the bosom of my God, and to 
say, " Thou wilt guide me with thy counsel, and at 
last receive me into glory. Whom have I in heaven 
but thee, and whom on earth do I love in comparison 
with thee ? Though my flesh and my heart fail, God 
is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever. 
My soul thirsts, longs, lives, prays, and toils to be- 
come one with thee, for assimilation to thee, for 
the constant unfolding and enlarging of those men- 
tal powers which constitute thy glorious image." 

As it is natural to be thrilled at sight of the wide- 
ly extended prairie, the firmament of heaven, or the 
boundless expanse of the ocean, so the heart remem- 
bers the spot where it was first warmed and lifted 
up by those unfiiiling hopes, wliich, crossing tlic gulf 
of death, the line of time, and the boundaries of the 
visible creation, connect our fates and fortunes with 



164 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

the wide, boundless scenes of an imperishable here- 
after. I can recall a single day, in New Orleans, dur- 
ing which I received an amount of happiness more 
than sufficient to counterbalance all the suifcrings 
of my life ; nay, more, which enabled me to regard 
these very sufferings as instruments by which 
Heaven is working out for me kinds and degrees 
of good inconceivably great and glorious. But this 
spiritual enjoyment to which I allude never entered 
my sovil until I had been brought to see that God is 
incapable of destroying his own children, or, which 
is the same thing, allowing them to be destroyed. 
One of an opposite faith may be a very sincere Chris- 
tian, but he can no more taste the peculiar delight 
which I am now speaking of, than a blind man can 
perceive the beauties of the rainbow. 

In conjunction with a more thorough knowledge 
of the Scriptures, the peculiar events of my profes- 
sional career had an extensive influence in modify- 
ing and changing the theological opinions which had 
been imbibed in New England. It was among the 
sick, prostrate, and suffering that the true interpre- 
tation of the Bible began to dawn upon my mind. 
I felt that the teachings of nature, providence, and 
grace must be harmonious. I had been reading 
books from a child, but as yet had not studied pro- 
foundly the mysteries of human life. Upon the 
principles of faith acquired at Andover, I saw the 
crowds around me hurried, by an unseen, resistless 
power, through the ordinances and appointments ; 
the sudden alternations of health, sickness, prosper- 
ity, and adversity ; the scenes of endurance, priva- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 165 

tion, and disappointment ; the painful siinderings 
of the ties of friendship, affinity, and affection ; and 
the other indescribable vicissitudes, fates, fortunes, 
and trials, which are condensed into the short span 
of this momentous existence between the cradle and 
the tomb, only as preparatory to a final residence in 
the dark regions of inconceivable, unbounded, and 
hopeless ruin. The more I thought upon tlie sub- 
ject, the more deeply was the idea impressed, that 
such a destiny was utterly irreconcilable with infinite 
love. I used often to say, " If God be our Father, 
could he expose us to an evil that has no limits, and 
which no finite power can avert ? " It was conceded 
on all sides that we could not save ourselves. 

Tlie very best are more or less sinful and unworthy 
at the moment of death. No degree of virtue, then, 
attainable on earth, can prepare us for immortal 
blessedness. True, I had heard, all my life, that the 
only basis of salvation spoken of in the gospel was 
the grace of God tlu'ough Christ. But tlie doctrine 
had been uniformly presented to my mind in such a 
shape, and with such surroundings, that I had never 
discerned its genuine character and bearings. Con- 
stantly was I reminded that we could do nothing 
towards saving ourselves, and yet, at the same time 
that faith, repentance, and holiness before death, 
were the indispensable prerequisites to eternal life. 
Upon this ground, it a})pcared to me self-evident that 
the vast majority of my fellow-beings must pcrisli 
everlastingly. No hopes could be rationally enter- 
tained for the final deliverance even of those who 
die idiots, or those who sink into the grave during 
the period of infancy. 



166 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

Whilst in this state of perplexity and distress, I 
was called one afternoon to visit a remarkably inter- 
esting young man, sick of the yellow fever. I had 
often met him in company, and enjoyed his conver- 
sation. Every body admired him for his extraordi- 
nary talents, and the moral charms of his life and 
character. One of the deacons of the church hap- 
pened to be in my study when I was sent for, and 
being an intimate acquaintance of the afflicted fam- 
ily, he accompanied me to the sick room. The usual 
services were performed. Within five minutes after- 
wards he expired. The m.other uttered shrieks of 
grief and despair, enough to melt a heart of ada- 
mant. I tried to make some soothing remarks, but 
she refused to be comforted. As she was a commu- 
nicant of the church, and beyond all question a very 
pious lady, I referred her to the inexhaustible riches 
of a Saviour's mercy. 

" But the mercy of God," she replied, " is limited. 
Our beloved James is now, I fear, in a world where 
the blessings of a Creator's love will never be known. 
He was noble, kind-hearted, faithful, true, and good, 
but he was not religious. A few days ago he told 
me that he did not believe in the Trinity ; that in 
his opinion the Son of God was inferior, subordinate 
to, and dependent on the Father. Dying with such 
sentiments, how can I entertain the faintest hope of 
ever meeting liim in a better world ? " 

I replied very promptly, and perhaps with too much 
warmth, " Madam, in the unseen world, the catechism 
of our church is not the criterion by which persons 
will be acquitted or condemned. You say your son 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 167 

was honest, and most exemplary in the discharge 
of all his duties. What more could he have done ? 
If he is lost, who then can be saved ? " 

" Do you mean to intimate," she inquired, " that 
one who expires disbelieving the supreme divinity 
of Christ, will ever be admitted to the kingdom of 
heaven ? " 

" I hope so," was the answer ; " nor do I read any 
thing in the New Testament which forbids such a 
hope." But this thought was more shocking than 
consolatory to her. In a few weeks she left our so- 
ciety, and went to another church. A purer, more 
.affectionate, or conscientious woman I have never 
known ; but the sentiment " had grown with her 
growth and strengthened with her strength," that the 
gospel holds out no promise of forgiveness and 
restoration to those who leave the world in error and 
unbelief. The reflection arose in my mind, " Can that 
be true religion, which represents death as a calami- 
ty so great and terrible, that it excludes, of necessity, 
a great part of mankind from entertaining even the 
hope of a better and blessed life beyond the grave ? " 

As we were returning home, my friend the elder 
remarked that it seemed to him quite unaccountable 
that infinite mercy should be limited by any thing 
whatever — by time, nature, space, death, human 
folly, or corruption. " Can Infinite Mercy be gratified 
if a single child be left to wander forever in sin and 
unhappiness ? Has this young man gone to a world 
where he will have no further opportunities of ac- 
quiring truth and becoming holy ? "Was such a doc- 
trine really taught by Jesus Christ ? IIow dark and 



168 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

desolate, then, the prospects of that future state ! 
But I suppose it must be so. The clergy ought to 
understand this subject." These questions opened 
for me the way to another field of inquiry, analo- 
gous, indeed, to the one I had been exploring so 
long, but of a somewhat different phase. 

Reaching my study, I took down Cruden's Con- 
cordance to the Holy Scriptures, and turned to the 
word probation. To my great surprise, I found that 
there was no such word in the Bible. Yet the fol- 
lowing phrase is contained in almost every sermon : 
" Pro/>fl^/o« will end with the present life." I had 
heard Dr. Woods assert that if a man's accountable 
existence on earth was not more than twelve months, 
in this short space of time he must establish a good 
character, or he would be eternally ruined. No op- 
portunity will be afforded a person after death to 
qualify himself for a happy immortality. It struck 
me that nothing could be more absurd than the sen- 
timent that Infinite Wisdom had endued us with the 
capacity of an endless being, in which there could 
be no progression after the dissolution of the body. 
I had already prepared a complete list of the passages 
adduced in support of the doctrine of everlasting 
woe. They were constantly spread out on my table, 
like a map or chart which a ship master consults in 
navigating his vessel through difficult and dangerous 
waters. I looked them over and over most care- 
fully, through the winter of 1833 and 1834, to 
see if they contained the affirmation, or any thing 
which in the remotest degree savored of it, that the 
state of man in the present life is probationary/ — a 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 169 

season of moral trial, upon the proper improvement or 
abuse of which depends our eternal weal. I found 
not a Bible argument in support of this dogma. On 
the contrary, I read therein that " God doth not pun- 
ish forever, neither is his displeasure eternal. For 
as high as heaven is above earth, so great is his 
mercy. As far as the cast is from the west, so far 
hath he removed our transgressions from us. He 
will not deal with us according to our sins, nor re- 
ward us according to our iniquities. Even as a 
lather pitieth his children, so doth the Lord pity the 
sons of men. For he knowetli our frame, he re- 
membereth that we are dust. As for man, his days 
are as grass : as a flower of the field, so he llourish- 
eth. The wind passeth over it, and it is gone, and 
the place thereof shall know it no more. But the 
mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting, 
and his goodness to children's children. God is rich 
in mercy, plenteous in mercy, delights in mercy. 
Mercy shall triumph over justice. He will not af- 
flict forever, because he delighteth in mercy. He is 
gracious and full of compassion, infinite, immutable, 
and everlasting in his benevolence. Mortality shall 
be swallowed up of life ; " and so on to an indefinite 
extent. 

How large, how cheering, how magnificent are 
these views of man's ultimate destiny ! In the the- 
ory of theologians, the grace of God is jejune, narrow, 
circumscribed, inefficient, conditional, contingent, 
liable to be frustrated by the obstinacy, blindness, 
follies, whims, and caprice of feeble, fallible, erring, 
and unhappy mortals. In the Bible, it is an impar- 
ls 



170 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

tial, universal, almighty, ever-living, ever-present 
tenderness ; a sea of compassion, in which all the 
guilt, sin, and unworthiness of our race will be lost 
and absorbed as a drop of rain is lost, when it falls 
into the ocean, and is seen no more. 

Having reached what seemed to me an important 
crisis in my theological career, I could not reconcile 
it with the principles of honor to conceal from the 
church the new phases of my spiritual position. For 
ten years I had been employed in revising my faith. 
I had searched the Scriptures anew, unbiased by 
fear or hope, in regard to the final results. All this 
was done in the sacred seclusion of my heart and 
study, alone with God, and the enrapturing beauties 
of divine, eternal truth. There was no clerical nor 
lay friend with whom I could converse with respect 
to the new direction of my researches, and their 
effect in enlarging my intellectual and moral horizon. 

Besides, it appeared to me wrong to communicate 
to others the change of sentiments towards which I 
was drifting, until they had assumed the shape of 
clear, full, and undoubting convictions. No doubt a 
sagacious, observing, regular attendant on my minis- 
try might have detected the fact that I was not 
standing still, — that I was passing through a mental 
revolution of some kind or other. An intelligent 
Presbyterian — a noble, generous, constant hearer — 
said to me one day, " There has been of late a great 
alteration in your style of preaching ; I cannot di- 
vine the cause." In reply, I said, " I am not con- 
scious of any such change. Will you be so good as 
to describe your impressions touching the matter ? " 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 171 

He answered me thus : "In your addresses to sin- 
ners, your tone is more mild, gentle, and persuasive 
than formerly. It seems as if you do not look upon 
their guilt as quite so awful and aggravated as it is 
represented to be in the Bible. I want to have you 
speak to these godless, desperate men in your old- 
fashioned way. You should lighten, anathematize, 
and pour out upon them the denunciations of an 
offended Heaven. You should speak to them oftener 
of the horrors of that future world, ivhere the fire is 
not quenched, and the ivorm never dics.^^ 

During this transition, I had no books to aid me, 
written by liberal divines. And really I did not 
require them. Among all the Unitarian and Univer- 
salist writings which I have seen, no work, as to ex- 
pansion or liberality of spirit and sentiment, is com- 
parable with the New Testament, especially the Ser- 
mon on the Mount, the Acts, and the Epistles. 
Finding myself firmly fixed in the new views to 
which I have alluded, I determined to state them 
explicitly from the pulpit. Accordingly, on the first 
Sabbath of July, 1831, I arose in my place after 
prayer, and remarked, " that I could no longer be- 
lieve in, avow, teach, or defend, the peculiar doctrines 
of the Presbyterian church." These doctrines were 
specified as follows : particular election, the vicari- 
ous atonement, original sin, ph//sical inabiliiij, and 
endless punishment. 

It was said that I was unable to find these senti- 
ments in the Bible ; that my reason ignored them ; 
and tliat hereafter I should deem it my duty to wage 
against them, both in and out of the pulpit, a war 



172 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

of utter extermination. I then selected the subject 
of future punishment as the theme of my homily at 
that particular time. My discourse was unwritten, 
though I had before me copious notes of Scripture 
references. In conclusion, I gave them my new 
creed, in plain, simple, unambiguous terms. 

I will here transcribe it. " There are not three 
persons in the Godhead ; there is but one Being in 
the universe, of infinite, uncreated power, wisdom, 
and love — the Father of all mankind, the Father 
of a boundless majesty. Jesus Christ was not merely 
a teacher, exemplar, martyr, for the truth, but he 
was literally and verily God manifest in the flesh — 
officialhj^ not actually a God. He came to enlighten, 
forgive, and sanctify all men ; to immortalize the 
race ; to carry them buoyant over death to the fel- 
lowship of saints and angels in glory. He knows all 
hearts, and in the redemption of mankind, performs 
actions which require divine attributes ; so that we 
are certain that God was in Christ Jesus, (as there is 
a finite spirit in my body, now speaking to you,) 
' reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing 
to men their trespasses.' 

" All mankind are brethren, equally dear in the 
sight of God, and will eventually be saved by the 
renewal of their hearts through faith, repentance, 
holiness, and the forgiving grace of which Jesus 
Christ is the channel and dispenser. In this life, 
men are under a system of perfectly just and equita- 
ble rewards and punisluuents. No sin can ever be 
forgiven, until he who committed it has suffered a 
deserved retribution, and heartily repented of the 
same. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 178 

" Pure religion and undefilcd consists in loving 
God with all the heart, and our neighbor as ourselves. 
It is happily expressed by the three terms pielij, 
purity, and disinterestedness — proper feelings to- 
wards God, holiness of life, love, and kindness, and 
brotherly affection for all. 

" The Holy Scriptures are the record of a divine 
inspiration. By inspiration, I mean a supernatural 
mfluence, which qualifies its recipient to set forth 
moral and religious truths, free from material, fatal, 
or essential errors. These articles constitute the 
platform on which I now stand, and hope to main- 
tain so long as I live. 

' He who these duties shall perform, 
Faithful, and with an honest heart, 
Shall safely ride through every storm, 
And find, indeed, that better part.' ' 

The principles embraced in the above creed are 
my faith to-day, essentially, and have been for the 
last twenty-two years. 

When I came out of church, my friends gathered 
round me, especially the trustees and elders of the 
society. They were all astonished ; some were 
pleased ; many were alarmed ; but none were of- 
fended. One of the most influential members pres- 
ent remarked, •' Mr. Clapp, I cannot subscribe to the 
declaration which you have made this morning, but 
I think you have taken the only right, honorable 
course. You have shown your colors ; you have 
frankly avowed your real sentiments ; we know who 
you are, and on what to depend, and what you mean 
15* 



174 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

to teach in future. But I am afraid that, if the 
truth be on your side, you are at least fifty years in 
advance of the age. Christians in general will 
struggle desperately, and a long time, before they 
will part with the doctrines which you have openly 
rejected. Consequently, those of us who adhere to 
you will be branded, all over the United States, as 
errorists and dangerous heretics." Others addressed 
me in terms equally kind, noble, and forbearing. 
Nothing of a bigoted, scornful, censorious, or self- 
righteous spirit was manifested. Indeed, New Or- 
leans is the most tolerant place in Christendom. All 
the misrepresentations abroad touching my character 
and opinions have been set afloat by strangers and 
non-residents. 

Before this out-door assembly dispersed, it was 
proposed to postpone all action on the subject till I 
had delivered a course of sermons on this new gos- 
pel, as it was called. To this I joyfully acceded. I 
commenced the very next Sabbath, and ke^Jt on un- 
interruptedly till Christmas. l^Iy congregation gave 
me a fair, candid hearing, and said repeatedly that 
they would support me if convinced that I was right, 
however much it might subject them to public odi- 
um and unpopularity. The members of my society 
were singularly independent. With them, the au- 
thority of great names did not amount to much — 
" names which serve to guide the multitude as the 
bellwether guides his willing, faithful sheep, all of 
which will jump just as high as he does, even after ho 
has knocked the fence flat on the ground." To pur- 
sue calmly, honestly, the investigation of truth in its 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 175 

most retired, latent recesses ; to confess it when it is 
in disgrace ; to endure contempt and ridicule in its 
behalf; to suffer for it with a martyr's unflinching 
constancy, require a firmness, a greatness of soul, a 
superiority to all selfish considerations, which is tlie 
very essence of moral heroism. 

My friends supported me with an undaunted, un- 
shaken, unwearied resolution. Most of them are 
now gone. Forever fresh and sacred will be tlieir 
memories in my heart. They have their reward. 
Only a small number at tliat time — I think not 
more than half a dozen — left me ; but a great many 
more joined the society on account of the stand which 
I had taken. It is natural for free men to love a free 
church, whose spirit is as wide and expansive as the 
heavens over us. And the seceders, too, were good 
men, true and conscientious. Tliose of them who 
are living at this day are my warm, steady, faithful 
friends. Indeed, I did not make an enemy by my 
Declaration of Religious Independence. Those who 
most dissented from me in opinion respected my 
candor and fairness. Here, as in every other de- 
partment, it holds true that " honesty is the best pol- 
icy." Tliose clergymen make a fatal mistake who 
suppose that an honest avowal of their opinions, 
however latitudinarian they may be, will detract a 
particle from their good standing in the public esti- 
mation — will lessen in any considerable degree 
their influence and usefulness, or diminish tlie num- 
ber of their friends and patrons. 

Many persons have thouglit that the doings of tlie 
Mississippi presbytery towards me in the emergency 



176 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

just spoken of were cruel, bitter, and vindictive. 
This opinion I could not indorse without many 
qualifications and apologies for my opponents. 
With one exception, I believe that all the members 
of that body, in their measures with respect to my- 
self, and the church over which I presided, were 
actuated by pure and worthy motives. The relations 
between us had been most cordial and friendly. 
They felt no hostility to me personally, but were 
alarmed at what appeared to them the shocking- 
errors into which I had fallen, and was endeavoring, 
by all means in my power, to propagate. Had I been 
in one of their places, I should have acted just as 
tlicy did. I concede to others the same rights which 
I claim for mj^sclf. 

A clergyman of great celebrity passed through 
New Orleans in the autumn of 1834. He called to 
see me, and spent several hours in my study. In 
the course of our conversation, he said, " Depend 
upon it, the doctrine of God's infinite, elernal wrath 
is a main pillar in the gospel of our Lord. What is 
there in the Bible, as you interpret it, which is fitted 
to restrain, alarm, arouse, and convert the base, igno- 
rant, hardened sinner ?" 

I replied, " The doctrine of endless woe, as I be- 
lieve, since its first promulgation, has never prevented 
a single sin, a single species of crime, nor reformed 
a single sinner. On the contrary, it has operated, 
immeasurably, to multiply and increase the very 
mischiefs it was intended to suppress. To pure, 
conscientious persons it has been a rack of torture, 
a source of i-mutterable anxiety, gloom, and des[)air. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 17T 

Instead of reclaiming the wicked from the paths 
of turpitude, it has made them more reclcless, 
desperate, and depraved. The unfounded tenet 
that the Creator is capable of frowning upon his 
children forever, and following them with his curse 
and displeasure through interminable ages, for the 
sins committed in this frail, erring, imperfect state 
of existence, has contributed, more than all the 
other corruptions of Christianity combined, to swell 
that tide of vice, crime, and immoralities, which 
for ages has rolled its dark and troubled billows, 
foul as the recesses of the Stygian pit, across this 
footstool of Jehovah. 

" To me it seems more corrupting than any other 
idea that has ever afflicted our weak, sinful, unhappy, 
and misguided race. It represents the Father of all 
as inexorable, a boundless fountain of cruelty itself, 
gives him a character darker than Erebus, and pre- 
sents him in that light which must, of necessity, 
prevent the believers thereof from cherishing one 
sentiment of cordial affection for their Creator. 
And whoever docs not love God will be sure to sin 
against him. The very thought of almighty ven- 
geance is enough to cover earth with sackcloth, and 
spread over the face of heaven the gloom of absolute 
despair. AYe cannot be more perfect tlian the God 
whom we adore. Whatever we look upon as supe- 
rior, we assimilate to. If we embrace a sentiment 
which represents the Creator as cruel, partial, or 
revengeful, tins belief, in spite of ourselves, will tend 
to harden and destroy all the finer feelings and sen- 
sibilities of our nature ; make us, though ever so 



178 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

sincere, sour, morose, exclusive, and bigoted ; and 
impart to our cliaracters the most harsh, stern, and 
repulsive features. As the stream cannot rise higher 
than its fountain, so no one can surpass, in moral 
excellence, the Divinity at whose shrine he makes the 
continual offerings of supreme homage and adoration." 

The clergyman continued, " By what arguments, 
motives, or inducements, then, do you expect to re- 
claim the erring, sinful, and incorrigible ? " 

I answered, " They can be subdued by nothing but 
the power of gentleness, the melting influence of 
compassion, the omnipotence of love, the control of 
the mild over the turbulent and boisterous, the com- 
manding majesty of that exalted character which 
mingles with disapprobation of the offence the sin- 
cerest pity for the offender. A depraved heart will 
yield to nothing but love." Let me illustrate my 
idea by relating a couple of anecdotes. 

Some time ago, I was called to visit a man con- 
fined in the calaboose of this city for murder. He had 
been tried, and was condemned to be lianged. Tlie 
sheritr of this parish was a very humane person, and 
always procured a priest or minister to repair to the 
cells of those who were about to suffer the death 
penalty. The individual I am speaking of had been 
reared in the Protestant faith ; so the duty devolved 
upon me to administer to him the consolations of 
religion. I found him intelligent, shrewd, but most 
fearfully hardened and reckless. I asked him if he 
entertained any expectation of being pardoned by 
tlie governor. I found that he had no hopes of 
this kind. V.'hen 1 urged upon him the importance 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 179 

of making some preparation for the great change 
he was to pass through so soon, I was met with the 
assertion that he wanted not the prayers, the in- 
structions, or the counsels of any clergyman. " I 
know as much about the future world," said he, " as 
you do, and am qualified to do my own praying." 
I had the New Testament in my hands, but he re- 
fused to hear me read a word of it. He said that 
he had solicited the sheriff, as an especial favor, not 
to allow him to be annoyed by the intrusion of min- 
isters of any denomination. He was a native of 
Europe, an educated, well-informed man, and a con- 
firmed, scoffing atheist. Seeing that my presence 
was not agreeable to him, I rose to depart. 

When I took him by the hand, he said, " I per- 
ceive that you are a sociable man. I feel very lonely, 
and should be most glad to see you often, if you will 
not obtrude upon me the subject of religion, which 
I utterly abhor." I promised to call every morning 
at ten o'clock, till the day fixed for his execution. 
Walking home, I said to myself, " There must be some 
good thing which this poor man loves. I will try to 
find out what it is, and make it the subject of some 
moralizing which will be agreeable to him, and per- 
haps may indirectly reach and soften his heart." 
When I visited him the next morning, I told him 
that I had not called as a clergyman, but as ^friend., 
and should indeed be happy to say something that 
he could listen to with gratification and profit. I 
began the conversation by making some inquiries 
about his family. His mind at once reverted to his 
childhood, youth, and early home ; his parents, 



180 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

brothers, and sisters ; his first warm loves, and first 
bright hopes, ere he had wandered from innocence 
into the dark regions of sin and ruin. In a few 
moments he sobbed and wept lilve a cliild. I wept 
with him ; it was impossible to refrain from it. The 
prisoner was a young man, not over twenty-five 
years of age. He had ardently loved a yourg lady 
of his native place, who was married to a rival, and 
he ascribed his fall to this disappointment. 

When I left him that morning, he seemed to be a 
new being. His countenance had lost its haggard 
and ferocious aspect, and become humanized, mild, 
and gentle in expression. " Pray," said he, " bring 
to-morrow some book to read, which may help to 
divert me from the terrible thoughts that prey upon 
my heart." On the third day, I took along with me 
Campbell's Pleasures of Hope and Thomson's Sea- 
sons. In the space of twenty-four hours, his mind 
was so changed, that he said, " Sir, I am sorry for 
the manner in which I treated you during our first 
interview. I recant the declarations which I then 
made, and hope you will forget them. Last night I 
dreamed that I was in my native place and home. 
The rapture I enjoyed aroused me from my sleep to 
consciousness, and the bitter certainty that I shall 
never see that home again. that I could cherish 
that hope of meeting my beloved relatives and friends 
once more ! 0, I shall lose my reason before the 
hour of punishment arrives ! 0, pray for me ! O, 
teach me ! Arc there no powers above to pity and 
bless me ? " I knelt down and offered a prayer, to 
which he heartily responded amen. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 181 

From that day forward, he gave himself up impli- 
citly to my guidance and direction, and became, I 
believe, a sincere penitent. Yet not one word was 
ever said to him about the anger of God, or future 
punishment. The very morning that he was doomed 
to suffer the sentence of the law, I passed a good 
deal of time in his cell, besides witnessing the awful 
catastrophe. Among other things, he said, " If I 
had known from early life that God was my Father, 
that he truly loved me, as a devoted mother does 
tlie babe of her bosom, and desired only my present 
and everlasting welfare, I should have been saved 
from a sinful life, and from this shocking and igno- 
minious fate." 

I will mention another incident to illustrate the 
point, that genuine repentance chiefly springs not 
from fear, but from the thought of the horrible in- 
gratitude towards Supreme Love which the com- 
mission of sin evinces. Several years ago there Avas 
a lady — a mother — residing in one of the Northern 
States, distinguished for her wealth, social position, 
and her religious character. She had a favorite son, 
for whose advancement in life great efforts had been 
made. But notwithstanding, he became a profligate 
and vagabond. I had known him in our school-boy 
days. The mother addressed to me a letter concern- 
ing her lost child. From the latest information, she 
believed that he was wandering in the Southern States, 
and besought me, if I should meet the hapless fugi- 
tive, to acquaint her with the facts, and extend to 
him such ofiices of kindness as I might judge expe- 
dient. 

16 



182 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

A few days after the receipt of this letter, the 
young prodigal made his appearance in New Orleans, 
and found his way to my study. He was in a most 
woful plight, both physically and morally. In man- 
ners he was rude, audacious, and grossly profane. 
He wanted money. " Money will do you no good," 
said I, " unless you reform your life." " Reform ! " 
replied he ; " 'tis impossible ; it is entirely too late. 
I have no hopes ; I can never retrieve my steps. I 
have nothing to live for. I am the execration of 
all who know me. I have not a friend left in the 
wide world." On his saying this, I went to my 
desk, and took out the above-named letter from his 
mother. Sliowing him the superscription, I asked 
him if he knew the handwriting. He replied, with 
a changed, thoughtful air, " It is my dear mother's." 
I opened and read to him one paragraph only. In a 
moment he seemed as if struck by some unseen, 
resistless power. He sank down upon his chair, 
burst into tears, sobbed aloud, and convulsively 
exclaimed, " O God, forgive my base ingratitude to 
that beloved mother ! " 

Yes, the thought of that fond parent in a far dis- 
tant and dishonored home, who cherished for him an 
undying affection, who overlooked all his baseness, 
who never failed to mingle his outcast name with her 
morning and evening prayers, saying, (and this was 
the sentence I read to him,) " my heavenly Father, 
I beseech thee to preserve, forgive, and redeem my 
poor lost child ; in thy infinite mercy be pleased to 
restore him to my embrace, and to the joys of sin- 
cere repentance ; " — the thought of such tenderness 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 183 

broke his obdurate licart, and the waters of peni- 
tence gushed forth. To make a long narrative brief, 
from that hour he was a reformed man, and is now 
an inhabitant of his native place, shedding around 
him the blessed influences of a sober, useful, and ex- 
emplary life. 

Now, I ask, what, probably, would have been the 
effect upon that young man's destiny if a letter from 
his mother had been read to him couched in a style 
directly the reverse — a letter which breathed only 
of scorn, indignation, wrath, hatred, and menace ; 
which uttered only the harsh tones of bitter upbraid- 
ings, reproach, and denunciations ? Would it not 
have operated to harden his heart still more ? to 
have given increased vigor and intensity to his des- 
perate passions, and to have plunged him hopelessly 
into the abyss of ruin and degradation ? 

If all sinners could be brought to see that the 
Father in heaven actually cherishes for them a ten- 
derness infinitely greater than that of this mother 
for her son, that he truly pities them, and pleads 
with them to return, by all the wonders of Calvary 
and all the sufferings of Jesus, and that he wills 
nothing but their highest good, — however contempt- 
uous, proud, haughty, selfish, and unfeeling they 
might be, they could never again lift the puny arm 
of rebellion and disobedience against a love so amaz- 
ing, so boundless, and ineffable. 

Love only can overcome evil. A man is not truly 
penitent in the highest degree till he can say, in the 
words of Paul, " For I am persuaded that neither 
death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, noi- 



184 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

powers, nor things present, nor things to come " 
— no being, no event, no created thing, no enemy, 
not even my fearful guilt and unworthiness — shall 
be able finally and forever to separate me " from the 
love of God which is in Christ Jesus my Lord." 
Every thing else may fail ; friends may die ; the 
earth, with all that it contains, be dissolved ; but the 
throne of Divine Love will remain unmoved. The 
waves of eternity may beat thereon ; they have no 
power to weaken, overthrow, or sweep it away. The 
above scene has been described in words as like 
those which were actually uttered as my memory is 
able to recall. I can vouch only for the substantial 
truth of what is recorded in this chapter. 



EEY. THEODORE CLAPP. 185 



CHAPTER VIII. 

EPIDEMICS OF 1837 AND 1853. — REMARKS ON THE POP- 
ULAR VIEWS AS TO THE INSALUBRITY OF NEW OR- 
LEANS. THE CAUSES OP YELLOW FEVER, AND ITS 

REMEDIES. ITS BEARINGS ON THE MORALS OF THE 

CRESCENT CITY. 

It is not necessary for the purpose of the present 
work that a detailed account, in chronological order, 
of the epidemics which I have witnessed in New 
Orleans should be spread before my readers. I have 
dwelt with some particularity on the great cholera 
of 1832. I have virtually passed through the same 
scenes of toil, anxiety, and suffering, at least twenty 
times. To describe my experiences minutely, during 
each of these periods of trial and hardship, would 
lead me into useless repetitions. I should only be 
exhibiting to spectators a succession of pictures of 
one uniform, unvaried, heart-sickening, and depress- 
ing gloom. There is a wonderful sameness in the 
sombre realities of the sick room, the death struggle, 
the corpse, the shroud, the coffin, the funeral, and 
the tomb. 

Let me ask the reader to pause here a moment, 
whilst I attempt to suggest a general but very inade- 
quate idea of my labors and sufferings in each of 
the campaigns above referred to. The term of a 
sickly season in New Orleans has never been less 
than six weeks. In a majority of cases it has ex- 
16* 



186 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

tended from eight weeks to ten. In 1824 it began 
early in June, and did not entirely disappear till the 
November following. On an average, it is within 
bounds to say that the duration of each epidemic 
spoken of in these pages was at least eight weeks. 
Multiply eight by twenty, and the product is one 
hundred and sixty. Hence it follows that since my 
settlement in Louisiana I have spent over three 
entire years in battling, with all my might, against 
those invisible enemies, the cholera and yellow fever. 
In those three years I scarcely enjoyed a night of 
undisturbed repose. When I did sleep, it was upon 
my post, in the midst of the dead and wounded, with 
my armor on, and ready at the first summons to 
meet the deadly assault. 

A gentleman of New Orleans, who was in the bat- 
tle of the 8th January, 1815, on the plains of Chal- 
mette, by which General Jackson became immortal- 
ized, was one of my neighbors during the first cholera. 
He stood his ground manfully one day. The next 
morning I saw him making all possible despatch to 
cross Lake Pontchartrain into Florida. As I was 
passing by to attend a funeral, he spoke to me thus : 
" I consider it no sign of cowardice, but common 
prudence, to run away from the enemy that is now 
desolating our city. On the battle ground, under 
Old Hickory, we could see the enemy, and measure 
him, and cope with and resist him, with visible, sure, 
and tangible means. But here is a foe that we can- 
not see, with his fatal scythe mowing down hundreds 
in a day. When contending against the British, also, 
we had this advantage ; every night there was a com- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 187 

plete cessation of hostilities ; and by sound sleep we 
were recuperated, and awoke each morning ready 
for the struggles of another day." He then repeated 
the following stanza from Campbell : — 

" * Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lowered, 
And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky, 
And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered, 
The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.' 

" But this terrible conflict allows no truce. The 
enemy is as active at night as in the daytime. I 
have chartered a schooner, and shall be off with my 
family in a few moments. I have always had the 
reputation of being a man of nerve and courage. 
But you see now how pale and trembling I am. I 
can stand unblenching to receive the assault of 
sword, bayonet, musket or cannon balls ; but this 
dark, unseen, infernal enemy makes me as feeble 
and timid as a child. I am afraid we shall be 
nabbed, some of us, at least, before we get into the 
pine woods. Farewell ; I never expect to sec you 
again." 

But on his return at Christmas, ho found me in 
good health, and learned, with surprise, that I had 
not experienced a day's illness all the preceding 
summer. Though this man was not a member of 
any church, and rather sceptical in his religious 
tendencies, he became one of the firmest friends and 
supporters I ever had in New Orleans. He used to 
say, " Mr, Clapp, I neither know nor care any thing 
about your theology, but I know that there is some- 
thing in your bosom that makes you intrepid in times 
of peril, disaster, darkness, and death. I know, sir, 



188 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

that no array of terrors can drive you from the post 
of duty, and that, consequently, you are the very 
minister for New Orleans." 

In addition, let the reader admit to his imagina- 
tion another important particular, essential to even 
a distant and faint impression of the endurance 
allotted me in those " times that tried men's souls." 
The exercises of our minds in sleep and dreaming 
are determined, in a great measure, by the nature 
of our employments through the day. An agreeable 
day's work lays up a stock of delightful thoughts 
and sentiments for the silent, peaceful hours of the 
succeeding night. What, then, think you, must 
have been the images before my mind during that 
portion of each night, when an epidemic was pre- 
vailing, in which I attempted to sleep ? As to per- 
fectly sound, dreamless sleep, it was almost a total 
stranger to me. Under the most favorable circum- 
stances, I could only doze ; and the various sights, 
horrors, and shudderings of the previous day, or 
week, or month were constantly passing in review 
before me. In those disturbed hours I often talked 
aloud, or prayed over and soothed and encouraged 
the dying sufferer. At another time I would pro- 
nounce a soliloquy in view of some broken-down, 
scathed, and bereaved widow, with her fatherless 
cliildrcn, and earnestly supplicate the blessing of 
Heaven in their behalf. If I had seen during tlie 
day an uncommonly severe case of agonizing and 
dying, the terrific image haunted me without inter- 
mission for a long time, awake or sleeping. Perhaps 
there is no acute disease actually less painful than 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 189 

yellow fever, although there is none more shocking 
and repulsive to the beholder. Often I have met 
and shook hands with some blooming, handsome 
young man to-day, and in a few hours afterwards, I 
have been called to see him in the black vomit, with 
profuse hemorrhages from the mouth, nose, ears, 
eyes, and even the toes ; the eyes prominent, glis- 
tening, yellow, and staring ; the face discolored with 
orange color and dusky red. 

The physiognomy of the yellow fever corpse is 
usually sad, sullen, and perturbed ; the countenance 
dark, mottled, livid, swollen, and stained with blood 
and black vomit ; the veins of the face and whole 
body become distended, and look as if they were 
going to burst ; and though the heart has ceased to 
beat, the circulation of the blood sometimes con- 
tinues for hours, quite as active as in life. Think, 
reader, what it must be to have one's mind wholly 
occupied with such sights and scenes for weeks to- 
gether; nay, more — for months, for years, for a 
whole lifetime even. Scarcely a night passes now, 
in which my dreams are not haunted more or less 
by the distorted faces, the shrieks, the convulsions, 
the groans, the struggles, and the horrors which 
I witnessed thirty-live years ago. They come up 
before my mind's eye like positive, absolute reali- 
ties. I awake, rejoicing indeed to find that it is a 
dream ; but there is no more sleep for me that 
niglit. No arithmetic could compute the diminution 
of my happiness, for the last forty years, from this 
single source. Setting aside another and better 
world to come, I would not make such a sacrifice as 



190 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

one epidemic demands, for all the fame, pleasures, 
and gold of earth. What, then, will you think of 
twenty ? 

A clergyman said to me not long since, " You have 
indeed had a terrible time in New Orleans. You 
will be rewarded for it some time or other, but not 
here^ not here. A suitable remuneration awaits you 
in the kingdom of God, beyond the grave." 

I shocked my friend exceedingly by saying, " I 
neither expect any such remuneration nor desire it. 
I have had my reward already. Virtue is its own 
reward. I am no more entitled to a seat in heaven 
for all I have done, (supposing my motives to have 
been holy,) than the veriest wretch that ever expi- 
ated his crimes on the gallows." I repeat it, every 
person who does his duty receives a perfect recom- 
pense this side the grave. He can receive nothing 
afterwards, except upon the platform of mercy. For 
the good deeds done in the body, there is no heaven 
but upon earth. When will Christian ministers 
learn this fundamental truth of the gospel ? 

" The soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy, 
Is virtue's prize : a better would 5'ou fix ? 
Then give humility a coach and six. 
Justice a conqueror's sword, or truth a gown. 
Or public spirit its great cure — a crown." 

In my efforts and struggles in New Orleans, I can- 
not presume to say that duty was always uppermost 
in my mind. Duty is to me an important, but a 
cold word. Yet I can assert, unqualifiedly, that I 
was not actuated by selfish, mercenary considera- 
tions — by any regard to the advantages of earth 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 191 

and time. I did but follow the impulses of my na- 
ture. I love my fellow-beings, and when I see them 
in want, pain, sickness, and destitution, I fly to their 
relief because I cannot help it any more than water 
can help running downwards, or fire can help burn- 
ing. I deserve neither praise nor reward for acting 
in this manner. It is but a necessary carrying out 
of those spiritual principles which God has given me, 
and the very exercise of which is heaven itself — is 
the " divinity stirring within my soul." The per- 
sons who speak of Christians as not being fully re- 
Avardcd in this life, it seems to me, have yet to learn 
the alphabet of revealed religion. 

Again, during these seasons of trial, there is a 
constant drain on one's sympathies, which does not 
operate to lower or dry up their current, but to 
make it constantly more deep and rapid. It is often 
said that the power of sympathy is blunted and be- 
numbed by familiarity, and being frequently exer- 
cised in the same way. This opinion has been ex- 
pressed by the great Dr. Palcy, of England, a divine 
whose defective powers of sensibility and imagination 
rendered him utterly incompetent to discuss many 
of the most interesting topics belonging to our spir- 
itual nature. My own experience testifies that the 
oftener a professional man, either a physician or a 
clergyman, witnesses the distress and pain of a fel- 
low-being, the greater will be his sympathy for suf- 
fering. As a general fact, the old physician has a 
much larger stock of tenderness than that with 
which he began his professional career. The medi- 
cal gentlemen of New Orleans are to a remarkable 



192 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

degree humane, sympathetic, and charitable. Every 
picture of woe and agony which experience has hung 
up in the gallery of their memories has added to 
the nobleness of their hearts. 

But it is said that increase of sympathy is of 
course increase of happiness. I doubt the truth of 
this proposition. To sympathize, in cases of dis- 
tress and misfortune, is to have a correspondent feel- 
ing of pain experienced by another. I have often 
seen a man come into a room where his intimate 
friend was dying of the yellow fever, and in one 
minute after reaching his bedside, turn pale, faint, 
and become violently affected with nausea and vom- 
iting. I have seen the mother repeatedly go into 
convulsions at the sight of spasms in her beloved 
child. I might mention instances of this kind to an 
indefinite extent. Is such sympathy a source of 
happiness ? To be sure, this part of our nature is 
divine, and prompts us to deeds of magnanimity, of 
heroic sacrifice. And a magnanimous, self-sacri- 
ficing mind is happy, compared with one that is 
coarse, selfish, and unfeeling. Yet sjaupathy with 
sufferers is in every instance a painful emotion. A 
physician once said to me, " I had some time to 
sleep last night, but was kept awake by a painful 
remembrance of the agonizing scenes I beheld yes- 
terday afternoon." 

I will illustrate the position of a minister in New 
Orleans with regard to this matter, by relating a 
single item of my own experience. I was called one 
afternoon to attend the funeral of a gentleman who 
died of the yellow fever. Ho was a total stranger to 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 193 

me, I had never heard of him in his life. I was 
introduced to the widow, who was sitting in the same 
room with the corpse. She had the stare, the 
ghastly face, and wild expression of a maniac. I 
tried to speak some fitting words to her. I said, 
" Madam, it is our privilege to be assured that what- 
ever befalls us in this life, however cruel and myste- 
rious it may appear, is the ordination of God, and is 
consequently intended to subserve our happiness." 
At this point, she interrupted me, saying, with loud, 
excited tones of voice, " Do not speak to me of a 
God or Providence. Behold that corpse," (pointing 
to the remains of her deceased husband.) " If there 
Avas a good God controlling human affairs, he would 
not have robbed mo of my children first, and then 
taken away my husband — the only stay, prop, and 
support left me on earth." I could say nothing 
more. After a very short service, the funeral pro- 
cession moved off. A gentleman who lived next 
door to the deceased rode with me in the same car- 
riage to the cemetery. 

From him I learned the little that was known of 
the history of the deceased. He arrived in New 
Orleans the last of May, three months before his 
death, perfectly destitute ; he obtained a situation 
that yielded him a bare competence, by obligating 
himself to stay the whole year in the city. The epi- 
demic broke out. He was a man of honor, and 
would not leave his post. He had two interesting 
children, a son and daughter, who died but a few 
days before him. The widow was left without a dol- 
lar, and had not a single female acquaintance to 
17 



104 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

sympathize with her. On my return from the funer- 
al, I called at the house to see her again, hoping hy 
that time she would be more tranquil. I found her 
lying on a mattress, in the same room where her 
husband had expired. She herself had just been 
seized with the yellow fever. There was one hired 
servant in the house, and a colored nurse, who were 
preparing to leave immediately, because they had 
not been paid for their services. I assumed the debt 
which they alleged was due, and persuaded them to 
remain till the lady died or recovered. They said 
there were no provisions in the house, no fuel, and 
no comforts. I gave them enough to carry them 
through the night, promising the amplest remunera- 
tion for the future, if they would but faithfully take 
care of the sick woman. On my way home, I called 
a physician to her aid. 

When I saw her early next morning, she was ex- 
ceedingly ill. Finding that there was nobody to do 
any thing for her but myself, I started off at once on 
a begging tour, for my own means were exhausted. 
After running two or three hours in a blazing sun, 
I obtained the requisite assistance. At that time 
there Avere no Howard societies, no benevolent or- 
ganizations, in the city. There was no concerted 
action with respect to objects of charity, but every 
thing was left to the spontaneous generosity of indi- 
viduals. Yet, when I reported that a family was in 
want, it was easy to procure the needed aid, by giv- 
ing my personal attention to the matter. But this 
took up a vast deal of my time. To the credit of 
New Orleans bo it said, that her inhabitants have 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 195 

always been munificent in their donations for the 
relief of tlie sick and indigent. 

This unfortunate lady, after a most severe attack, 
became convalescent. The hand of charity paid all 
her expenses — house rent, servants' hire, undertak- 
er's bills, &c., till the return of autumn. Then a 
sufficient sum was raised to send her, with the re- 
mains of her husband and children, to her distant 
relatives. I mention this incident, not as any thing 
extraordinary ; it was with me an every-day occur- 
rence. But it may serve to show what kind of hap- 
piness accrues from the exercise of Christian sympa- 
thy. There is certainly something in it superior to 
mere selfishness. I have kept myself in a state of 
pauperism by benefactions of the kind above named. 
]My charities for thirty -five years, in New Orleans, were 
not less, on an average, than one hundred dollars a 
month, or forty-two thousand dollars in sum total. 
And tills was expended upon persons abject, poor, 
unknown, and unhonored, who could make no re- 
turn except that of a thankful heart. 

The moral history of the lady I have been speak- 
ing of is so interesting, that I cannot pass it by 
entirely unnoticed. When restored to health, she 
became very much attached to me, and very com- 
municative. Her intellect was of the highest order, 
and her reading extensive. In person she was not 
beautiful. But she, as well as her late husband, 
was a confirmed sceptic. On a certain time, she 
said, " 3Iy own liistory is sufficient proof that there 
is no God. I look back upon a life of unintermitted 
sorrow and disappointment. I married against my 



196 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

parents' consent, and they disowned me. My hus- 
band became a bankrupt, and at last we immigrated 
here to retrieve our shattered fortune. 

" You know the sequel. I often say to myself, 
^ Why did I not die in infancy ? Why was it that I 
have been subjected to the terrible, crushing burdens 
of such an adverse lot ? Now I have neither hus- 
band, nor children, nor family, nor means, and no 
friend to help me, except yourself. Let the fortu- 
nate praise their kind Creator ; but I am a wretch 
doomed to eat the bread of a bitter and neglected 
lot — to walk sadly and alone through this cold, un- 
kind, uncongenial world, till permitted to enter upon 
the repose of the tomb.' " By conversation and the 
help of appropriate books, I endeavored to inspire 
her with higher, more ennobling, and more cheering 
sentiments ; with what success will appear from a 
passage in a letter which she wrote to me some 
years afterwards. In the succeeding winter she 
returned to her native place, taking along with her 
the remains of her husband and children. She was 
kindly received by her relatives, contrary to her 
anticipations, and became comparatively a happy and 
a truly pious woman. 

Slie wrote me many times after her departure, 
but is now an inhabitant of the spirit world. In 
one of her last letters she recorded the following 
words : " Suffering has humbled my pride and soft- 
ened my heart. I remember when you first told 
me that human life was not intended to ])e a scene 
of enjoyment, but a school of discipline, where, by 
a series of trials and instructions, the hiolier and 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 107 

nol)ler capacities, which the Creator has implanted 
in the soul, might be developed and brought into 
activity. I now look upon the losses which I sus- 
tained in New Orleans as in reality the greatest 
blessings. Had my husband and myself lived there 
till we had become prosperous and wealthy, free 
from trouble, I should never have known that there 
was any higher good than the pleasures of time and 
sense. 

" But now I behold and commune with an infinite 
Father. I no longer look upon my existence as a 
mystery, a curse, or a misfortune ; but I feel that 
each passing day spreads before me glorious oppor- 
tunities to be improved, and glorious forms of hap- 
piness to be enjoyed. My health is feeble, and. the 
physicians have pronounced me to be in a hopeless 
decline. Yet I am happy, and take much exercise 
abroad. My family bestow upon me every possible 
kindness and attention. Every pleasant evening I 
walk to the cemetery, and linger, till the setting of 
the sun, around the tombs of my husband and chil- 
dren. I have no doubts, no fears, no despondency. 
The graves of those I love are upon the summit of 
a Ijcautiful hill. From this spot I look out upon 
the calm splendors of the departing day ; the golden 
and azure beauty of the skies, with the inspiring 
faith that beyond them are those brighter regions, 
where I shall soon meet the true, good, and beauti- 
ful whom I have lost, to be separated from them no 
more. Under God, you were instrumental in bring- 
ing me out of darkness into the light of a pure and 
ha])pifying faith." I could relate instances of a 
17* 



198 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

similar description, sufficient to fill a volume. And 
I have referred to the subject simply to enable the 
reader to form a faint idea of the peculiar scenes 
in which my professional life has been passed. 

But imagine what was, usually, my condition 
after the termination of an epidemic. Health reigns 
again throughout the city ; absentees, with strangers, 
are rushing back in crowds. The weather is as 
charming as that of paradise. All is stir, bustle, 
cheerfulness, gayety, and hope. Were one unac- 
quainted with New Orleans, to drop in ujjon us at 
this moment, he would conclude that we were among 
the happiest of communities. No hearses arc seen 
wending their way to the burying grounds. The 
doctors are comparatively at leisure. The posts of 
employment, made vacant by the recent mortality, 
are soon filled by strangers, as young, ardent, hope- 
ful, and sanguine as were their predecessors, and 
destined, most of them, to share the same fate. But 
there is one class of persons whose hands and atten- 
tion are still occupied by the melancholy duties 
devolved upon them by the epidemic which has just 
closed. 

The work of the clergyman, occasioned by this 
visitation, is protracted through the succeeding win- 
ter, the year, and perhaps many succeeding years. 
Poor families, in greater or less numbers, have been 
left destitute and dependent. They have none to 
look to but the minister, who stood by, in the dark 
hour, to pray, soothe, and support them, when their 
beloved husbands and children were consigned to 
the grave. They conclude, as they ought to do, that 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 199 

" pure religion and undefiled before God and the 
Father is, to visit the widow and the fatherless in 
their affliction." Though entire strangers, simply 
because I was with them in the season of sorrow and 
bereavement, they would come to me for counsel 
and aid, with as much confidence as if I had been a 
brother by the ties of natural affinity. I was re- 
garded as the common friend and benefactor of the 
unhappy of every age, church, character, clime, 
and complexion. I have labored as much for those 
belonging to Orthodox and Catholic societies as for 
poor heretics and outsiders. I have always felt that 
any one who could say, " I am a man," had a sacred 
and imperative claim to my sympathies and kind in- 
terposition. Neither God nor mortality liath any 
respect of persons. 

From Monday morning to Saturday night this 
class of sufferers used to besiege my doors, and draw 
upon my pecuniary resources. Young children had 
places provided for them in asylums, or private fam- 
ilies. Older boys, of a suitable age, were appren- 
ticed to some merchant, mechanic, or planter. But 
there is a great demand for such situations after an 
epidemic is over. There is often much difficulty in 
obtaining them. I could not tell how many weeks 
I have spent in hunting patrons for fatherless, for- 
saken, indigent boys. Then the widows were to be 
taken care of, and their wants, taste, capacity, and 
even whims could not be disregarded. Some had 
never been trained to any useful employment wiiat- 
ever, and had not the requisite skill to use the 
needle. What could be done for them ? AVhy, they 



200 AUTOBIUGIiAPHY OP 

would tell me that they were able to manage a 
boarding house in excellent style, and there was one 
close by which they could procure, if they had only 
two or three hundred dollars to start with. Mr. 
Somebody would advance the funds, if I would be 
so kind as to indorse a note for them. 

The note is executed ; the establishment is opened 
under apparently favorable auspices. But, in the 
space of a few months, through mismanagement, it 
fails, and to prevent being protested, I have the note 
to pay. The lady, then, perhaps, finds a second hus- 
band, and embarks once more upon the dangerous 
sea of matrimony. In a short time, she comes to 
me with some doleful story of maltreatment and 
desertion, and wishes me to put her upon the way 
of obtaining a divorce. Another, who had an excel- 
lent situation in a good family as a seamstress, had 
some misunderstanding with the lady of the house, 
and she has resolved not to live there another day. 
Slic modestly asks me to get another place for her, 
and she expects mo to attend to it without delay. 

A third Avalks into my study when I am absorbed 
in meditating a discourse for the next day, and in- 
forms me that the man to whom I lately married 
her, and who seemed to be the very pink of moral- 
ity, is not as good as he ought to be — is quite lati- 
tudinarian, indolent, and intemperate in his habits. 
The landlord threatens to turn her out of doors, 
unless the rent is paid before sundown. To prevent 
this catastrophe, she wants a loan of twenty dollars, 
which she will certainly return some day next 
week. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 201 

She obtains her request, and has hardly left the 
room before a fourth calls, to let me kuow that her 
son, for whom I got a place iu a certaiu store, ware- 
house, or counting room, is overworked, besides 
being subjected to indignities which his father would 
not allow him to submit to an hour, if he were alive. 
His month is out, and she is determined that ho 
shall never set his foot in that establishment again. 
It would be better for him to be in his grave than 
longer to endure such ill usage. 

She is succeeded by a fifth visitor, who, addressing 
me with much warmth and a look of upbraiding, 
says, " You, sir, recommended a certain family as 
the best and safest place for my daughter in the 
whole city. But she is not only made a menial of, 
instead of being treated as one of the daughters, biit 
the gentleman who, you said, was so pious, meeting 
her yesterday alone, offered her a gross insvilt ; and 
I have taken her home that she might not be abso- 
lutely ruined." 

In this way I am, perhaps, interrupted all Saturday 
morning, till the hour for dining has arrived. Next 
day, in all probability, the weather will be delight- 
ful, and I shall have to speak to a large audience, 
and among them will be many strangers of dis- 
tinction, who have lately arrived ; I am entirely 
unprepared. These thoughts weigh heavily upon 
my mind, and make me sick. I am so nervous that 
I can neither eat nor sleep till the labors of the 
Sabbath are over. 

Heaven have mercy upon a clergyman incessantly 
molested by trials and importunities like these. 



202 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

They make the salubrious months of the winter 
ahnost as undesirable as the precedin^^ autumn, 
Avhich was so saddened with pestilence and deatli. 
When a man is buried, he can trouble you no more ; 
but these survivors of the conflict may follow you to 
your grave. 

Yet these unfortunate persons are not to be 
blamed for the course they take. They can do no 
better, as a general fact. Upon every principle of 
honor and religion, the community is bound to take 
care of them. In New Orleans this obligation is 
recognized. A few years ago some charitable ladies 
belonging to the different religious denominations of 
the city, Protestant and Catholic, started an institu- 
tion called the Widows' Home. It was fostered by 
benevolent individuals, and by the legislature of the 
state. Dr. Mercer, formerly of Natchez, Mississippi, 
but now of New Orleans, a man not only of wealth, 
but munificence, — another Poydras, Touro, or Law- 
rence, — has taken this establishment under his 
especial patronage. He has already bestowed on it 
fifty thousand dollars, and is prepared to increase his 
benefactions, if they shall be needed. This gentle- 
man has higher and nobler aims than to make his 
fortune merely subservient to his physical enjoy- 
ment — to the throwing around him, in the greatest 
superfluity, the luxuries and refinements of genteel 
life. He gives bountifully to churches, schools, mis- 
sions, almshouses, and other institutions. Ho docs 
all that becomes the opulent friend and helper of 
humanity to elevate it in knowledge and virtue, and 
animate it Avitli hopes of a more glorious destiny 
hereafter. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 203 

The two most fatal yellow fevers which I have 
witnessed were those of 1837 and 1853. In the 
former year there were ten thousand cases of fever 
reported, and five thousand deaths. The epidemic 
broke out about the middle of August, and lasted 
eight weeks. This is the greatest mortality which 
was ever known in the United States, if we except 
that which occurred in the cholera of New Or- 
leans, October, 1832. The year 1837 is memorable 
for the introduction of what is called the quinine 
practice. It is now, I am told by the physicians, 
generally abandoned. By some persons abroad, our 
doctors have been much blamed for thinking to over- 
come the yellow fever by the above-named medicine. 
For myself, I do not wonder that they made such an 
attempt. It had been recommended by the most 
celebrated practitioners in the West Indies, and in 
other tropical regions. New Orleans has always 
been blessed with the most learned, skilful, and com- 
petent physicians ; but they are neither omniscient 
nor omnipotent. The cause of yellow fever is to 
this day a profound mystery. It has been said that 
this is a true but humiliating confession by Dr. Dow- 
ler, of New Orleans. I quote from an article of his, 
published in the New Orleans Directory in 1854: — 

" Heat, rain, moisture, swamps, vegeto-animal de- 
composition, contagion, and nnmerons other alleged 
causes are altogether inadequate and unsatisfactory. 
This might be shown by travelling over hundreds of 
inconclusive and contradictory volumes, filled with 
special pleadings, diluted logic, theoretical biases, 
and irrelevant facts. 



20-i AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

" It is most certainly tlie duty of every writer on 
yellow fever to explain the cause of it, if lie can ; 
but it is equally his duty not to sin against the deca- 
logue of logic, any more than against the decalogue 
of Moses. Fortunately, the conditions, if not the 
causes, of yellow fever are to a considerable extent 
known. For example, it is known to be connected — 
no matter how — with the warm season of the year, 
with unacclimated constitutions, with aggregations of 
people in towns and villages, &c. It rarely attacks 
rural populations unless they crowd together so as to 
become virtually towns. 

" A correct appreciation of these conditions is 
next in importance to the discovery of the cause of 
yellow fever. Probably the former may j^rove, after 
all, the more important ; for the discovery of the 
cause by no means warrants the conclusion that it is 
necessarily a removable or remedial one. The seeds 
of plants taken from Egyptian mummies contain the 
vital principle after the lapse of thousands of years, 
and will grow when the proper conditions shall be 
present, as heat, moisture, and earth, while the vital 
cause is in the plant. It is, therefore, a fundamental 
error to require a writer to explain the ens epi- 
demicuni, or to receive the alleged doctrine of conta- 
gion as the only alternative, when he cannot show 
what the cause is. 

"It is better to acknowledge ignorance than to 
advocate an error. It is better to keep a question of 
this sort open, than dogmatically to close it against 
investigation. In the former case, the truth may be 
discovered ; in the last, never. To knoiv ignorance is 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 205 

preferable to ig-norance of ignorance. To know that 
as yet we do not know, is the first step to be taken. 
Despair is not philosophical. The possible who can 
limit ? If the cause of yellow fever has not been 
discovered, it may yet be ; and when discovered, it 
may, or may not, be controllable. If it should never 
be discovered, any more than the cause that pro- 
duces on the same soil a poisonous and a nutritive 
plant, it is probable that at least its essential laws 
and conditions may be ascertained, so as to afford 
advantages and protection equal to those derivable 
from the knowledge of its time cause. All the les- 
sons of philosophy teach that yellow fever has a 
cause, without which it cannot appear, and with 
which it cannot fail to appear. Its antecedents and 
sequences must prove, when known, as invariably 
connected and simple as any part of physics. 

" The diversity of opinion on this subject among 
the learned is wonderful. Dr. Rush and others af- 
firm that the plague left London as soon as coal was 
introduced into the city as fuel. Now, the part of 
New Orleans most severely afflicted with yellow fe- 
ver in 1853 was in the neighborhood of the foun- 
deries, where vast quantities of coal were used. 
Sometimes the firing of artillery in the streets and 
public squares has been followed by the retreat of 
the epidemic ; at other times it has added an impetus 
to its march, as the eating of a salt herring was once 
followed by the recovery of a Frenchman and the 
death of an Englishman. The same is true of tar- 
burning. ]\nik, coffee, London porter, and various 
other articles have sometimes cured the black vomit, 
18 



206 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

at others they only helped on the disease. A process 
"which has cured the yellow fever one year, the very 
next will destroy all the patients." 

Consequently, when an epidemic sets in, the phy- 
sicians are in a quandary. They begin, perhaps, 
with medicine that was most efficacious in a former 
year ; but it kills rather than cures. In this case 
what can they do ? They must practise empirically. 
It is inevitable. They must travel blindfold, in a 
great measure. If they knew the cause of the com- 
plaint, they could apply medicines with skill and 
success, and avoid painful, and often most fatal mis- 
takes. I have always sympathized with the physi- 
cians in New Orleans. Their duties in a sickly sea- 
son are most arduous and responsible. Often have 
I seen them in a few weeks reduced to their beds by 
anxiety, toil, watchhigs, and disappointment ; and 
multitudes, instead of thanking them, have cursed 
them, because they did not at once expel the epi- 
demic from the city, which they could no more con- 
trol than they could raise the dead. 

Lately, our physicians have repudiated the use of 
drastic medicines in the treatment of this disease. 
They rely upon gentle remedies, the keeping up a 
constant perspiration by rubbing, and various exter- 
nal applications. The system of therapeutics at 
present adopted in New Orleans, with respect to 
diseases in general, approximates, in many particu- 
lars, to that prescribed by the homceopathic faculty. 
It is certainly much more successful than the prac- 
tice which was prevalent some years ago. In one of 
the earlier epidemics, I saw a physician, in his first 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 207 

visit to a patient, who had been ill but four hours, 
take from him, by the lancet, fifty ounces of blood at 
one time. The sick man was bled till he fainted. 
He then ordered him to swallow, at once, three hun- 
dred grains of calomel and gamboge. So the physi- 
cian himself testified. This sort of practice now 
would be regarded as certainly inevitably destruc- 
tive of life. 

In May, 1853, I went to Boston, Xahant, and Ni- 
agara, for my health. When at the Falls, I heard, 
by the telegraph and private letters, that the yellow 
fever had again become epidemic in New Orleans. 
This was in the warmest weather of July. Leaving 
my family, I immediately hurried home by the most 
expeditious route. I went in a steamer to Charles- 
ton, thence by railroad to Montgomery, on the Ala- 
bama River. From that place I took the mail route 
to Mobile, and reached the levee in about one week 
from New York. I was put out at the depot just 
before daylight. 

This is on the banks of the river, about a mile 
from the centre of the city. Whilst waiting to get 
my baggage, I could smell the offensive effluvium that 
fdled the atmosphere for miles around, resembling 
that which arises from putrefying animal or vegetable 
matter. As I rode upwards towards the heart of the 
city, I became quite ill, and on reaching my resi- 
dence was seized with fainting and vomiting. I took 
a bath, and was partially relieved. I then ordered 
some tea and toast, intending to spend the next 
twenty-four hours in my room, for I was completely 
overcome by fatigue and want of sleep. But the 



208 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

hackney coachman knew me, and, contrary to his 
promise, spread the news of my arrival. 

Before I had time to change my apparel, I was 
called on for professional services. In about one 
hour after entering my domicile, I left it to breathe 
the pestilence of a sick room. Here I found a phy- 
sician, who was one of my parishioners and intimate 
friends. He exclaimed, " I am very sorry to see you 
here. I did not suppose that you could commit 
such an imprudent act as to come directly from the 
salubrious regions of New England into this charnel 
house, this receptacle of plague and death. It will 
cost you your life." From that day forward till 
November, I was enabled to attend to my duties 
every day. I was not seriously ill for an hour. 

At this time, the city was full of moisture. It had 
been raining more or less every day for two months. 
And this falling weather lasted till the 20th of 
September. Some medical gentlemen thought that 
the severity of the epidemic was owing to the exces- 
sive rains of that summer. But the constant showers 
washed the gutters every day, and kept them clean. 
Besides, immense quantities of lime were strewed 
along the streets, yards, and squares, the exhalations 
from which were supposed to be antiseptic. It is a 
curious fact, that in 1837 the season was remarkably 
cool, clear, and dry. The weather resembled that 
of tlie so-called Indian summer. Yet the pestilence 
was never more destructive. And this very year, 
the fever was as virulent in the balmy, delightful 
weather of October, as it had been in the preceding 
rainy months. I judge, therefore, that the yellow 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP, 209 

fever is not affected, one way or the other, by mete- 
orological changes. 

On the day of my arrival, it rained incessantly 
from morning till night. In the space of twelve 
hours, the interments were over three hundred. 
The same day, I visited two unacclimated families 
belonging to my own church, who were all down 
with the plague. In these families were nine per- 
sons ; but two of them survived. I knew a large 
boarding house for draymen, mechanics, and humljlc 
operatives, from which forty-five corpses were borne 
away in thirteen days. A poor lady of my acquaint- 
ance kept boarders for a livelihood. Her family 
consisted of eight unacclimated persons. Every one 
of them died in the space of three weeks. 

Six unacclimated gentlemen, intelligent, refined, 
and strictly temperate, used to meet once a week, to 
enjoy music, cheering conversation, and innocent 
amusements. They had been told that it was a great 
safeguard, in a sickly summer, to keep up good spir- 
its, and banish from their minds dark and melan- 
choly thoughts. They passed a certain evening to- 
gether in health and happiness. In precisely one 
week from that entertainment, five of them were 
gathered to the tomb. One of the most appalling 
features of the yellow fever is the rapidity with 
which it accomplishes its mission. 

There is some difficulty in arriving at the true 
statistics touching the epidemic of 1853. It was 
supposed by the best informed physicians that there 
were fifty or sixty thousand unacclimated persons in 
New Orleans when the epidemic began, aboiit the 
18* 



210 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

1st of July. From that time to the 1st of Novem- 
ber, the whole number of deaths reported were ten 
thousand and three hundred. Of these, eight thou- 
sand died of the yellow fever. The physicians esti- 
mated that thirty-two thousand of those attacked 
this year were cured. Of course, if this calculation 
be true, the whole number of cases in 1853 was forty 
thousand. 

The horrors and desolations of this epidemic can- 
not be painted ; neither can they be realized, except 
by those who have lived in New Orleans, and have 
witnessed and participated in similar scenes. Words 
can convey no adequate idea of them. In some 
cases, all the clerks and agents belonging to mercan- 
tile establishments were swept away, and the stores 
closed by the civil authorities. Several entire fam- 
ilies were carried off — parents, children, servants, 
all. Others lost a quarter, or a third, or three 
fourths of their members, and their business, hopes, 
and happiness were blasted for life. The ravages of 
the destroyer were marked by more woful and af- 
fecting varieties of calamity than were ever deline- 
ated on the pages of romance. Fifteen clergymen 
died that season — two Protestant ministers and 
thirteen Roman Catholic priests. 

They were strangers to the climate, but could not 
be frightened from their posts of duty. The word 
fear was not in tlieir vocabulary. Four Sisters of 
Charity were laid in their graves, and several others 
were brought to the point of death. It is painful to 
dwell on these melancholy details, but it may suggest 
profitable trains of thought. Set before your imagi- 



REV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 211 

nations a picture of forty thousand persons engaged 
in a sanguinary battle, in which ten thousand men 
are killed outright. One thousand persons will fill 
a large church. Suppose ten congregations, of this 
number each, were to be assembled for worship in 
Boston, on the 1st day of July, 1858, and that on 
the first day of the following November, in the short 
space of four months, all should bo numbered with 
the dead. This mortality would be no more awful 
than that which I have witnessed in the Crescent 
City. 

In a letter which was written by myself to the 
Rev. Thomas Whittemore, September, 1853, are the 
following lines : " Let us look for a moment at a 
rainbow of beauty spanning this dark cloud of pes- 
tilence. During the past season of gloom and afilic- 
tion, the inhabitants of New Orleans have displayed 
a degree of heroism, a power of philanthropy, to me 
absolutely unparalleled. Families of wealth and 
case, instead of going over to the delightful watering 
places in this vicinity, on the sea shore, to enjoy 
themselves, have passed the whole summer in the 
city, and devoted their days and nights to the taking 
care of poor, stricken-down, forlorn strangers, who 
had no claims to their charities but the ties of our 
common humanity. I know one gentleman and 
lady in independent circumstances, who have had 
under their charge, in the course of the summer, as 
many as thirty poor families, and all strangers to 
them. These they have taken as good care of as if 
they had been of their own kith and kin. Such 
things have been common all over the city, and in all 



212 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

classes of our heterogeneous population. The mem- 
bers of the Howard Association have achieved mir- 
acles of benevolence. I hesitate not to say, that this 
city, in the late fearful visitation, has given to the 
world an example of Christian philanthropy as lofty 
as can be found in the records of all time. I have 
often thought, that if our northern brethren could 
have been in New Orleans the past summer, they 
would no longer entertain a doubt but that a slave- 
holder may be a Christian — the highest type of 
man, the noblest ivork of God. Every means which 
ingenuity could devise or benevolence suggest has 
been employed to avert and mitigate the evils of the 
plague. More than two hundred children have been 
made orphans, and the ladies within and around the 
city are making clothes for them, and doing every 
thing possible to promote their welfare. 

" Another thing which has deeply impressed my 
heart is, the northern sympathy which has been dis- 
played towards New Orleans, notwithstanding the 
people of the free states are so widely separated from 
us, in opinion and feeling, with respect to the subject 
of slavery. Laying prejudice and antipathies aside, 
they have shown that divine benevolence which dis- 
dains all the limits dictated by selfishness, and looks 
upon every human being within its reach as having 
a sacred and imperative claim to its kind offices. 
What more could have been done for us than has 
been done ? I should like to shake hands with Mr. 
Gcrritt Smith, and thank him with all my heart for 
his munificent subscription for the relief of the suf- 
ferers in our late epidemic. And Boston, the me- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 213 

tropolis of my native state, lias given for ns, I be- 
lieve, a larger amount, in proportion to her popula- 
tion, than any other city. Massachusetts should be 
the first in all noljle and illustrious charities, as she 
is confessedly preeminent in the glories of science, 
social refinement, and pure religion." Such were 
my impressions of these scenes, which were com- 
mitted to writing at the time they occurred, in the 
autumn of 1853. 

Tlmcydides has bequeathed to us a tragic and 
striking description of a plague which, in his day, 
took place at Athens. He tells us that demoraliza- 
tion raged there equally with the epidemic — that all 
the ties of friendship, of affinity, of moral responsi- 
bleness, of honor and religion were dissolved. All 
the refinements of civilized life, according to his 
statement, were swept away by a deluge of licen- 
tiousness — wild, frantic excesses, neglect of the sick 
and dying, the plunder of houses, murder, and other 
atrocities too awful to mention. The narratives of 
the plagues which have prevailed in Europe in mod- 
ern periods contain similar statements. Are they 
credible ? If so, then it is certain that mankind are 
infinitely better now than they were in the olden 
times. 

In the epidemics which I have witnessed, instead 
of unusual depravity, an extraordinary degree of be- 
nevolence has prevailed, shedding a heavenly light 
upon the dark scenes of the sick room, the deathbed, 
the coffin, the funeral, <tc. Yet, with respect to this 
subject, New Orleans has been most shamefully mis- 
represented. In the summer of 1821, an English 



214 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

officer came into our city on liis way from Jamaica, 
West Indies. He was an intrepid, well-informed, 
interesting man, and was induced to visit New Or- 
leans simply to gratify his curiosity. It happened 
that he came to ovir church one Sunday morning ; 
after the services, I had the honor of making his ac- 
quaintance. He said he was glad to be with us in 
days of mourning, disaster, and death, for he wished 
to become acquainted with all the phases of suffer- 
ing humanity, and had much rather see New Or- 
leans in the sickly season than in the healthy period 
of Avinter. He accompanied one of our physicians 
to the Charity Hospital, and walked with him 
through all the yellow fever wards. He used no pre- 
cautions, and seemed to be entirely superior to fear. 
We admired his courage, equanimity, and gentleman- 
ly bearing. After a fortnight's sojourn, he left us in 
good health. 

On his return to England, his travels in the United 
States that summer were published. A copy of the 
work fell into my hands. In turning to that portion 
of the book descriptive of his experiences among us 
during the time just mentioned, I was astonished at 
the assertion, that New Orleans, in the midst of a 
dreadful epidemic, was full of merriment, intemper- 
ance, and gayety. He says the sick were neglected 
and abandoned ; that crowds rushed every night to 
balls, operas, and theatrical amusements ; and that 
intoxicated persons were often seen uttering profane 
and ribald language when employed in burying the 
dead — in performing the last sad offices which hu- 
manity calls for. Words more false, defamatory, and 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 215 

unjust could not be written. Similar fictions are 
propagated in our northern cities concerning New 
Orleans every time an epidemic prevails there. Yet 
the fact is, that in the darkest days its inhabitants 
have deported themselves nobly, and recognized the 
sacred claims of religion and humanity. Many of 
these libels arc circulated in letters professedly writ- 
ten by persons who were eye and ear witnesses of the 
scenes which they described. 

It seems to give some men peculiar delight to de- 
preciate and vilify human nature. It is easy to be 
severe, harsh, satirical, and disparaging in comment- 
ing on the behavior of our fellow-beings. But no 
one was ever too charitable in his views of other 
men — their motives, principles, character, or con- 
duct. It has been my lot, for the last forty years, to 
reside in what are reputed to be the worst places in 
the civilized world ; yet to this day I have not met 
a person so hardened, so brutal, as to be capable of 
treating with indifference, neglect, or levity, the suf- 
fering forms of humanity within his reach. In New 
Orleans, I have been often struck with admiration 
to see persons in the lowest walks of life making 
every possible sacrifice of time, ease, and money in 
attending on the sick, soothing the dying, and pro- 
viding tombs and a decent burial for those who were 
absolute strangers, and utterly destitute. I go so 
far as to say, that I have never, in a single instance, 
seen poor and wicked people (as they are called) 
declining to perform all the offices of charity in their 
power to the ill and distressed around them. This 
most terrible form of sin has sometimes, perhaps, 



216 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

been manifested in the higher circles of humanity. 
I have never beheld it even there. 

When I hear Inunan nature run down, — prayed, 
preached, or talked against, — I feel that it amounts 
to a virtual impeachment of God's own perfections. 
It is but a depreciation, a slandering of his own 
glorious work. I have witnessed noble and disinter- 
ested actions among all classes of mankind, not ex- 
cepting the rudest and most~~ vulgar. I knew a 
woman, herself impoverished, and so ignorant that 
she did not understand the meaning of tlie phrase 
" self-sacrificing benevolence,^^ take a sick child from 
an adjoining house, whose father and motlier had 
just died of the yellow fever, and watch over it till 
worn out with fatigue and anxiety, without the 
slightest hope of any reward, and when even her 
own children were dependent upon her daily labor 
for subsistence. I saw much of this woman, on 
wliom the proud and fashionable, perhaps, w^ould 
look only with contempt. She was faithful, sincere, 
truth-loving — the just, conscientious, generous 
friend of the poor, cast down, forgotten, and suffer- 
ing, who could make no return for her kind doings. 
Yet she had never been a member of any cliurch, 
and could not read her Bible. 

I have seen poor young men, standing on the vesti- 
bule of mercantile life, close their stores, suspend all 
business, give their days and their nights, their toil 
and their money, to the relief of sick, indigent, and 
helpless strangers, from wdiom they could neither 
wish nor hope for the smallest remuneration. I 
have known them to carry on this work of charity. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP, 217 

till their health was undermined, and their lives 
were offered up as a sacrifice on the altar of philan- 
thropy. And these persons were not members of 
any Christian church. What is religion, or philos- 
ophy, falsely so called, arrayed against such facts as 
these ? 

I was once at Niagara when a man was carried 
over the falls. For fifteen long hours he clung to a 
log jutting out from between the rocks in the middle 
of the cataract. Thousands were spectators of the 
awful scene. What was their conduct ? The suf- 
ferer was a mere youth, al)out twenty years of age, 
one of the laborers engaged in excavating a canal, 
— a foreigner, without a relative near, — in the 
humblest possible condition and circumstances ; yet 
the multitude looking on wrung their hands, sighed, 
struggled, and wept, as if he were united to them by 
the tenderest ties of affinity and love. What efforts 
were made for his deliverance ? Had it been practi- 
cable, almost any sum of money might have been 
raised to effect his rescue. For what ? Because his 
life, on selfish principles, was of the least value to 
any person present ? A gentleman from the Southern 
States offered a reward of one thousand dollars to 
any individual who would suggest a feasible plan for 
saving him. Shame on the traducers of man's 
heaven-descended nature. They simply felt that the 
sufferer belonged to the great brotherhood of human- 
ity. This was the secret of their excitement, their 
sympathy, their tears, and labors for his salvation. 

Now, during the prevalence of an epidemic, the 
people of New Orleans act in the same way. They 
19 



218 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

are in the highest degree earnest, excited, serious, 
anxious, ready, one and all, to pour out their treas- 
ures and their hearts' blood, if it could avail, to save 
the victims of disease from the jaws of destruction. 

The pulpit, literature, philosophy, and even poetry, 
lend their combined influence in helping on the work 
of misrepresenting and blackening the glorious traits 
of our holy nature. The preacher sometimes tells 
us that there is no real goodness outside of the 
church. Who were the three hundred men that 
laid down their lives at the Straits of Tliermopyla3, 
to vindicate the liberties of their native land ? Who 
were the thousands that have labored, toiled, and 
died, in New Orleans, in the cause of benevolence ? 
What estimate would be formed of their characters, 
if they were tried by the line, square, and compass 
of the AVestminster Catechism ? Call up from the 
mists and shadows of bygone ages those noble and 
sublime forms, those right, enlarged, generous, phil- 
anthropic men, who poured out their lives for the 
common weal. These men, in our day, would not, 
on examination as to their creed, be admitted to the 
communion of any Orthodox church. No, nor 
would the Son of God himself. The church has 
done more to propagate mean conceptions of human 
nature than all the other influences which have 
tended to corrupt, darken, and debase our misguided 
race. 

I repeat it, our books of travel, our history, poe- 
try, romance, — the entire body of our literature, — 
newspapers, reviews, works on political economy, 
&c., all aid the pulpit in undervaluing and carica- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 210 

tiiring human nature. I have never seen a letter, 
j)ubHshed in the northern religious newspapers, pur- 
porting to be a picture of the moral state of things 
in New Orleans, which was not a gross libel. Every 
one is exclaiming, " See, behold, how awfully wicked 
the world is ! " I cannot join in this hue and cry ; I 
long to exclaim in and out of the pulpit, " Behold 
how good and noble mankind are ! " 

I have mixed and conversed with the operatives 
of Birmingham, Manchester, and Glasgow, and other 
manufacturing cities of Great Britain. I have seen 
the lazzaroni of Naples, and the most depi-cssed 
classes of Europe ; among even these I witnessed 
the manifestations of disinterested love, which Jesus 
Christ defines as constituting the essence of true 
religion. The very worst person has something of 
this nobleness in his bosom. It is a perfection, the 
idea of which, however dim and undefined, is more 
or less the germ and element of every human soul. 
Go to any state penitentiary, collect its inmates, set 
before them the picture of a man " who loves the 
most unlovely of his fellow-beings, as God himself 
does ; who is accustomed to sympathize with the 
most ignorant and debased ; to give to the most un- 
charitable, if in need ; to forgive those who are 
actuated only by revenge ; to be just to those who 
would rob him of every farthing, if they had an op- 
portunity ; to repay ceaseless hate with never-sleep- 
ing love;" would they not gaze upon the portrait 
with the profoundest satisfaction and delight ? But 
all know that it is impossible for a human being to 
sympathize with any virtue, unless he has in his own 



220 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

bosom some true perceptions of its charms, and a 
capacity to become clothed therewith, I have often 
come across the heroism of divine love in tlie hum- 
blest walks of life, in the very lanes and hovels of 
society. And on such occasions I always thank 
God and take courage. 

Cicero, in one of his moral treatises, remarks 
that our affectional nature constantly improves. Be- 
ginning with the tender sensibilities of home, it 
imperceptibly enlarges, from the love of parent, 
brother and sister, to those more expanded regards 
which embrace the vast society of human kind. 
Pope has thus paraphrased the thought : — 

" Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake, 
As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake : 
The centre moved, a circle straight succeeds ; 
Another still, and still another spreads 
Friend, parent, neighbor, first it will embrace, 
His country next, and next all human race." 

Setting aside the Bible, with all its propitious influ- 
ences, I have long thought that the progress and 
experiences of human life, themselves, without any 
other instrumentalities, except the Holy Spirit, which 
operates on every heart, often inspire the soul with 
those meek and gentle affections that are the essence 
of evangelical holiness. I have been in the habit of 
asking persons, in their dying moments, whether 
they could, with all the soul, forgive their enemies 
— their bitterest enemies. Invariably they have 
answered in the affirmative. " We forgive all, as 
we hope God will forgive us." I ask. Do not all 
such persons die in possession of the right spirit ? 
For Jesus declares the foro;iveness of enemies to be 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 221 

the highest type of love. He tells us that in heaven 
love is the only, the universal, and all-controlling 
23rinciplc of action. It has glowed, and been groAV- 
ing more intense, in the bosoms of angels, from 
eternity. Here we may be neglected, forgotten, 
despised, injured, and trampled upon. Biit be not 
discouraged. All things will come out right at last. 
Raise your eyes, saith Jesus, to that spirit land 
where all things are radiant with the beams of an 
unbounded benevolence. There we may anticipate 
perfect love and confidence, the interchange of 
benchcent deeds only ; a complete union of tastes 
and feelings, hearts and fortunes. There we, and 
all whom we love, are destined to become more inti- 
mate and endeared, beauteous and refined, as long 
as eternity shall last. 

To me it is plain that the gospel affirms this doc- 
trine : that no creed, no scheme of redemption, no 
power of fiiith, or repentance, is sufficient to insure 
one's salvation who hates his brother. Equally 
positive is it in asserting, that all who die in the 
exercise of a forgiving spirit will go to heaven. 
This category embraces all mankind, excepting in- 
fants and idiots. I know the clergy generally teach 
that death, of itself, has no power to change or im- 
prove the moral character. A more erroneous doctrine 
was never taught. Mere dying does more towards 
sanctifying a man than all the preceding acts, events, 
and influences of his life. It is the furnace by which 
he is purified, and prepared to enter, some time or 
other, upon the scenes of a purer and nobler exist- 
ence, with angels and the just made perfect. 
19* 



222 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE STATE OP EELIGION IN NEW ORLEANS THIRTY-FIVE 

YEARS AGO. THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH OF 

LOUISIANA. ITS AUSPICIOUS INFLUENCE ON THE 

HIGHEST WELFARE OF ITS VOTARIES, MORAL, SOCIAL, 

AND SPIRITUAL. THE PECULIAR DIFFICULTIES WHICH 

CHRISTIANITY ENCOUNTERS IN NEW ORLEANS AT THE 
PRESENT DAY. 

Multitudes suppose that genuine Christianity was 
not introduced into New Orleans till after its ces- 
sion to the United States, the beginning of the 
present century. The first American missionaries, 
who visited the place shortly after the close of the 
last war with Great Britain, in their published let- 
ters and reports, expressed the opinion that the 
preaching of the gospel was as much needed in New 
Orleans as in any other spot in the whole world. 
They affirmed that there the pure faith of the New 
Testament was unknown and untaught. Yet the 
Catholic religion had been flourishing in that place 
from its commencement, one hundred years pre- 
vious. Churches, schools, asylums, nunneries, and 
other institutiojis, such as are usually found in 
Catholic communities, had been built, with great 
labor and expense. 

When deliberating on the expediency of- making 
a settlement in New Orleans, I was told by divines 
of my own denomination, that if I went there, the 
most formidable enemy of the gospel would be 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 223 

arrayed against me — namely, the Papal clmrch. 
From a child I had been taught to regard Popery as 
the man of sin, the great adversary of all goodness, 
described in the Epistles and the Apocalypse by ^St. 
John. In the chart of interpretation, pronounced 
orthodox at the north, numbers, dates, persons, 
places, and events were particularly laid down, to 
})rovc that all the evils, woes, and calamities men- 
tioned in the book of Revelation were the maledic- 
tions of HeavQu, denouncing the Roman Catholics. 
My instructors assured me that the Catholic faitli 
was rapidly spreading in the western and southern 
parts of our country. It should be counteracted, 
they said, as far as possible, by sending out Protes- 
tant missionaries, and establishing Sunday schools 
throughout the great valley of the Mississippi. 

One can hardly imagine how strong, blind, and 
hateful were the prejudices against this Christian 
sect which deluded my mind when I began a profes- 
sional life in New Orleans. I had been there but a 
few weeks before I was invited to dine at the house 
of a liberal gentleman, where I was introduced to 
several Catholic priests. I found them intelligent, 
enlarged, refined, and remarkably interesting in con- 
versation. Not a syllable was uttered about the dif- 
ferences of our faith. I was charmed with their 
style of manners. They left their clerical robes at 
home, and deported themselves with all the ease, 
elegance, and affability characteristic of well-informed 
and polished laymen. Before we separated, I was 
assured that they would be happy to see me at their 
private residences any time, and in the most free and 



224 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

unceremonious manner. Gladly did 1 avail myself 
of an opportunity to cultivate their acquaintance. 
I wanted to obtain some personal knowledge of their 
peculiar faith, principles, and ceremonies. Hereto- 
fore, all that I had learned concerning these topics 
had been derived from Protestant writings and con- 
versation. I was anxious to hear them speak for 
themselves. 

In this respect my desires have been completely 
gratified. The first time that I was alone with a 
Catholic priest was an epoch in my existence. I was 
encouraged, contrary to my expectation, to propose 
Avhatever questions I chose in regard to his religion. 
I did so, and was always answered with apparent 
candor, directness, and sincerity. It seemed to 
afford him great pleasure to impart the information 
which I was solicitous to acquire. In a long conver- 
sation we discussed the principal articles of the 
Catholic creed — the authority of the pope, the 
worship of images, transubstantiation, the infallibil- 
ity of the church, auricular confession, &c. During 
this interview I was struck with the fact that the 
objections to these tenets usually made by Protestant 
divines were met by explanations which I had never 
before seen or heard of. For example, the charge 
of worshipping images was denied, and refuted in 
the following manner : " All persons," observed the 
priest, " love to look on the picture of a deceased 
friend, who was the object of their highest esteem 
and affection when living. This is a universal trait 
of human nature. The Catholic church, true to 
this instinct, has employed art to preserve and trans- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 225 

mit to otlier times, to bear onward from age to age, 
the forms and expressions of those noble sufferers, 
heroic apostles, and bright models of virtue that 
flourished in the antecedent periods of the Christian 
era. Wlio would not like to behold a perfect por- 
trait of the Son of God, an exact representation of 
his person, when he tabernacled in flesh? Would 
not tlic sight warm, interest, and quicken our souls ? 
Would it not exalt the tone of our piety ? 

"It is not true," he continued, "that we offer 
divine adoration — the homage due only to the Su- 
preme Father — to these productions of human 
genius, not excepting the Madonna, the image of the 
Virgin Mary. We hold that the disembodied saints 
of former and later times are really with us, behold- 
ing our actions, and hearing our words, and helping 
us to lead a good life. Is not this doctrine asserted 
by Paul, in the following words ? ' Wherefore, seeing 
we also are compassed about with so great a cloud 
of irif.nesses, [meaning,* as all concede, departed 
saints,] let us lay aside every weight, and the sin 
which doth so easily beset us, and let us run w'ith 
patience the race that is set before us ; looking unto 
Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who, for 
the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, 
despising the shame, and is set down at the right 
hand of the throne of God.' Now, with this beauti- 
ful, inspiring faith, is it not both natural and proper 
to request them to pray for us and bless us, as we 
ask those holy persons whom we daily converse Avith 
in the flesh, to remember xis in their thanksgivings 
and supplications to God ? This is the head and 



226 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

front of our offending. And for such a simple, 
scriptural practice wc are stigmatized as idolaters. 
Do you think, sir, that this is fair and just ? " 

I cannot resist the desire to relate an explanation, 
given at the same time, of that sii,hlime mystery, 
transubstantiation — the supposed conversion of the 
bread and wine in the eucharist into the body and 
blood of Christ. " We do not teach," he said, "that 
there is any actual change in the elements percepti- 
ble to our reason or our senses. The substances, 
after consecration, are, externally and visibly, the 
same as they were before ; but wc maintain that 
then the body and blood of Christ are mysteriously 
(in a manner incomprehensible to human reason) 
present with the substance of the bread and wine. 
So much Luther and his compeers professed to be- 
lieve. So much is admitted by the Lutheran divines 
of our day. Indeed, we defend transubstantiation 
by precisely the same reasoning which is employed 
by Protestant ministers generally in support of the 
Trinity. Jesus says, ' This is my flesh and my blood.' 
We stagger not at the declaration of God tln*ough 
unbelief. We do not undertake to solve the mystery 
upon philosophical principles, but receive it on the 
authority of revelation, with a cordial, reverential, 
and implicit faith. In the same manner your clergy 
remark concerning the Trinity. For there are tliree 
that bear record in heaven — the Father, the Word, 
and the Hot// Ghost, and these three are one. Not 
one literally, they say, not one to the eye of human 
reason — that is impossible; but one in a glorious, 
transcendental, s{)iritual sense, at present inexplicable 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 227 

to our narrow, benighted, gross, and sensual minds. 
Am I not right? " inquired the priest. 

It was not in my power to return a negative 
answer to the question. In a manner equally fair 
were the other peculiar articles of the Catholic faith 
simplified and explained. At the close of this inter- 
view, and, indeed, ever since, I have felt that a recep- 
tion of the theology which was at that time taught at 
Andover required as much faith in what seems to the 
natural mind irrational or absurd, as that of any 
doctrine taught by the church of Rome. I have no 
space to pursue this topic further. Its full unfold- 
ing would require a volume. But no Protestant 
Trinitarian can consistently object to the Papal 
church, that its doctrines are repugnant to reason. 
They are not a whit more so than many of those 
which he most strenuously advocates. 

I have often witnessed the celebration of high 
mass, not only in New Orleans, but also in various 
parts of Europe. There is not on earth another 
ceremony so august, solemn, and impressive. When 
the bell rings, at the instant of transubstantiation, 
the whole audience fall on their knees simultane- 
ously, in silent, profound prostration before the altar, 
praying for the forgiveness of their sins, believing 
with all the soul that the body and blood of Christ 
are that moment before them, offered as a complete 
expiation, if they are truly penitent, not only for the 
sins they may have committed the past week, but 
during the whole of their past lives. The effect is 
thrillingly, incfflxbly sublime. There is nothing in 
our Protestant churches superior to it, as it regards 



228 AUTOBIOOr'tAPIIY OF 

impressivencss. I w.i.i unco, o.i a beautiful Sabbath 
moriiiug, in St. Peter's, at Rome, and during tliis 
part of the worship I coukl not help kneeling myself 
upon the tessellated pavement, to recognize my rela- 
tion to that cross which speaks a universal language, 
which sheds the only light that shines on this dark 
world of sin — that cross which is both the emblem 
and pledge of our final triumph over death, and ad- 
mission to the realms of everlasting life and happi- 
ness. If I had been brought up from childhood in 
the Roman Catholic fold, no modification of my 
theological views, nothing this side the grave, could 
tempt me to stray away from a worship whose forms 
and ritual arc so simple and significant, yet, at the 
same time, grand, elevating, divine, and pure. I do 
not wonder that to those who have always been ac- 
customed to a Roman Catholic church, our Protes- 
tant meetings should seem so unedifying, and even 
irreverent. Were I to become a Trinitarian this 
year, I should, with all possible sincerity and earnest- 
ness, seek for immediate admission to the most holy 
Catholic church, " which is built upon tlie founda- 
tion of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ him- 
self being the chief corner stone." 

I rejoice that some of the Protestant divines of 
our day seem willing to acknowledge that there are 
good and beautifvil things even in Catholicism. Dr. 
Dewey, in his Journal of a Tour in Europe, writes 
as follows : " Nothing in Rome has astonished me so 
much as her three hundred and fifty churches. Any 
one of them is such a wonder and beauty as, if 
placed in America, would draw visitors from all parts 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 229 

of the coiiiitiy. The entire interior walls of many 
of these cliurehes are clothed with polished antique 
marble. They are hung round with paintings, and 
filled with marble pillars, statues, tombs, and altars. 
These altars, built often of jasper, porphyry, and the 
most precious stones, are commonly placed in re- 
cesses or chapels on each side of the church, so that 
they offer some retirement to the votary. 

" I confess that I seldom enter these churches 
without an impulse to engage in worship. My com- 
panions both agree witli me. We have often said, 
that if it were not for the air of pretension it would 
have to any of our acquaintances who might chance 
to pass, we should certainly do it. As we were 
walking in St. Peter's to-day, one said, ' // does not 
signifjj. I do luish in serious earnest that I could be 
a Catholic. I like their forms. These ever open 
churches, these ever ascending prayers ; the deep 
seclusion and silence ; the dim religious light ; the 
voices of morning mass or vesper hymn ; the sacred 
themes depicted upon every wall and dome ; and 
again and evermore these holy altars, whose steps 
have been worn by the knees of pilgrims of ages 
past, — all these things commend themselves, not 
merely to the imagination, but to the most profound, 
unaffected sentiments of devotion." 

Again he says, " One of the interesting services in 
the Catholic calendar consists of a periodical celebra- 
tion of the virtues and sufferings of the saint or 
martyr to whom any particular church is dedicated. 
There are appropriate prayers and thanksgivings, 
anthems sung in commemoration of former days and 
20 



230 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

deeds ; the church is illuminated and clothed with 
decorations, to make the ceremony as attractive and 
interesting as possible. While many things ancient 
and venerable are passing away, I would lay my 
hand on the records of ancient glory, and preserve 
them. The virtues of the world are the treasures 
of the world. I would enshrine them in sacred 
rites ; I would embalm them as the bones of the 
saints are actually preserved, in the very altars of 
the sanctuary. To praise virtue is to commend it to 
the respect of others. But we never respect it so 
feelingly and deeply as when we behold it clothed 
with the beauty and power of example. Let, then, 
I would say, goodness and good men be remembered 
by appropriate times, seasons, and services ; let holy 
rites set forth, let holy words recount, their deeds 
and sufferings ; let their virtues be borne upon the 
breath of music, an offering and a thanksgiving to 
Heaven. 

" And a festival in Catholic countries to commem- 
orate all saints — all g-ood men — a season around 
which is gathered the mighty host of those who, in 
faith and patience, in suffering and triumph, have 
gone to heaven, — this, I confess, strikes my mind as 
something most meet, suitable, and hallowing. Our 
Protestant religion is too naked of such associations. 
"We are too reserved, I think, even in expressing our 
regard towards living worth ; we arc not likely, then, 
to give too much expansion and expression to our 
enthusiasm for the heroism and .sanctity of former 
days. It teaches a useful lesson to those who are 
struggling against the tide of this world's tempta- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 231 

tions ; it teaches a beautiful lesson to the young, the 
ardent aspirant after virtue, to know that the piety 
and fortitude which, in their day, were humble and 
cast down, and fearful and despised, have at length 
come to live amid anthem and prayer, in the ever- 
lasting memory of all generations." How vehement, 
passionate, and stirring, as well as just, is the elo- 
quence of the above quotations ! 

Since my acquaintance with Louisiana began, 
there have been, I believe, at no time, less than 
twenty priests stationed in New Orleans. Besides 
performing clerical functions in churches, chapels, 
convents, asylums, and hospitals, they have founded 
and kept in vigorous operation numerous schools and 
seminaries of learning for both sexes. In these 
respective vocations they have displayed the most 
unflagging zeal, and ardent, persevering industry. 
No Protestant ministers in the United States, of any 
denomination, accomplish as much hard service as 
they do. Morning, noon, and night, at all seasons, 
whether healthy or sickly, they arc engaged in the 
prosecution of their arduous and responsible labors. 
Apparently, they live as if each day were their last, 
and as it becomes those to live who know not what a 
day, what an hour, may bring forth. Like the sun, 
which never pauses and never goes astray, so they 
revolve in the orbit of duty, a light, a charm, an 
ornament, and a blessing, to all who are embraced 
in their spiritual guardianship. 

In addition to the duties common to churches of 
every name, they are required to keep their places 
of worship open, not on the Sabbath only, but during 



232 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

each day of the week. At every altar, mass is per- 
formed at least once a day. Thou, the labor in- 
volved in the duties of the confessional is inconceiv- 
able to one who has not lived among the Catholics. 
I have known a priest engaged from daylight till 
noon, uninterruptedly, in receiving penitents, and 
that in the most inclement weather. All this time, 
he sits in a small place like a sentry box, applying 
his car, in a stooping posture, to an aperture in the 
surrounding lattice work, wiiich separates him from 
those who are making their confessions to him. 
This toil is unintermitted and everlasting. In the 
intense heat of July and the cold of December, (they 
have no fires in their churches,) it imposes a drud- 
gery more severe than that of the poorest operative 
in secular life, whether he rolls the barrel and bale 
in the city, or digs and toils on a plantation. 

In the cholera of 1832, I was the only Protestant 
clergyman that remained in the city, except the Rev. 
Mr. Hull, of the Episcopal church, who was confined 
to his house by a lingering consumption, and unable 
even to leave his room. This gentleman never left 
the city in sickly seasons, but fearlessly continued at 
his post, however great and alarming the mortality 
around him. So it was that in the first cholera I 
had no coadjutors but the Roman Catholic priests. 

One of these. Father K., was among my most in- 
timate personal acquaintances. He often dined with 
me, and spent hours at a time in the seclusion of my 
study. A better man I have not known. He was 
as liberal in his theological views as Dr. Channing 
or Bishop Fenelon, and yet most ardently attached 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 233 

to the Roman Catholic church. He was a firm dis- 
believer ill the doctrine of endless misery, but did 
not advocate this view of futurity in his public dis- 
courses. His charities, like his soul, were large and 
unbounded. He inherited a handsome property, 
which enabled him to gratify his benevolent desires. 
In his labors during the cholera, this gentleman 
gave his services to all, indiscriminately, who needed 
the consolations of religion, whether Protestant or 
Catliolic sufferers. " I feel," he said, " that all men 
are my brethren, and heirs of the same immortality. 
I spend all my time among the sick, irrespective of 
tlieir character or creed. 

" I am not allowed, indeed, to administer the rite 
of extreme unction to unbelievers. I do not attcm])t 
it. But with respect to such cases, I have a peculiar 
service of my own devising, dictated by the condition 
and circumstances of the sufferers around me, and 
which is not in any respect incompatible with my 
relations to the priesthood. I propound one ques- 
tion only to the departing sinner. I ask him if he 
believes in Almighty God, his Creator. If he answer 
affirmatively, (as all have hitherto done, without an 
exception,) I then offer this short prayer : May 
that merciful Creator, in whom you exist, forgive and 
bless you, and conduct you finally to those immortal 
joys which Jesus has procured for all men in that 
' undiscovered country from whose bourn no trav- 
eller returns.' " Could any thing be more simple, 
appropriate, or sublime ? He added, tears starting 
from his eyes with the utterance, " If it were in my 
power to prevent it, not one of these unhappy vic« 
20* 



234 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OP 

tims would be finally and forever lost." Will not, 
then, infinite, everlasting, and immutable mercy 
ultimately achieve their deliverance ? 

This excellent man lost his life in carrying out an 
enterprise of benevolence. He Tindertook to establish 
an asylum and school for orphan boys on the Bayou St. 
John. He had collected quite a number of fatherless 
children, and made suitable arrangements for their 
maintenance and education ; and when every thing, to 
human view, promised a rich harvest of success, the 
enterprise was suddenly blasted by the ravages of a 
tornado. It commenced about sundown, and before 
midnight caused the waters of Lake Pontcliartrain 
to rise several feet, and flow towards the city like 
the incoming tide of an ocean. At the dead hour 
of night, Father K. was aroused by the rushing of 
the waters into his room. He made all possible haste 
to awaken the boys, and placed them under the di- 
rection of a tutor, who soon conducted them beyond 
the reach of danger. Then he took some servants 
with him to the stables, to save a fine stock of cows 
from drowning. This object was accomplished, but 
with great difficulty. The good man waded and 
swam in the water so long that it brought on a chill 
and typhoid fever, which in a few days terminated 
his invaluable life and labors. To the community 
in general, and to myself in particular, his death 
was an irreparable loss. Our views on religion, and 
our tastes in general, were singularly harmonious. 
Strong and deathless were the sympathies by which 
we were united. I have not known a clergyman of 
my own persuasion whom I loved with a purer, in- 
tenser affection. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 235 

It is a wide-spread opinion that Roman Catholic 
priests practise certain immoralities, not only with 
impunity, but with the entire approbation of their 
parishioners, which, in Protestant communities, 
would blast completely and forever the reputation 
and influence of a minister. It affords me great 
pleasure to testify, that in New Orleans, just as much 
as in Boston or New York, a spotless moral life is 
a qualification indispensably necessary to the good 
standing of any clergyman, whether Protestant or 
Catholic. Priests are never seen in Louisiana at 
balls, theatres, private dancing parties, or operas 
even. 

They do not teach that these amusements, ab- 
stractly considered, are sinful, but that, such are 
the weakness and prejudices of large classes in ev- 
ery community, they look upon it as incompatible 
with the spirituality and refinement of the priest- 
hood to participate in their enjoyment. In their 
public deportment, the Roman Catholic priests of 
New Orleans are models of clerical wisdom, decorum, 
and propriety. They are sufhcicntly grave, serious, 
and dignified, and at the same time free from affec- 
tation, simple, natural, condescending, agreeable, 
and unconstrained in tlieir intercourse with persons 
of every age, character, and condition in life. I 
have sometimes been present when their religious 
peculiarities have been assailed by unjust, gross, and 
insulting insinuations, and beheld with profound 
admiration their imperturbable equanimity, meek- 
ness, and forbearance. Happy would it be if all 
who profess to be the ministers of Christ should 



236 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OP 

faithfully follow the example of Him " who did no 
sin, neither Avas guile found in his mouth ; not 
rendering evil for evil, or railing for railing, but 
contrariwise blessing ; who, when he was reviled, 
reviled not again ; when he suffered, threatened not ; 
but committed himself to Him that judgeth right- 
eously." 

Shortly after my settlement in New Orleans, I 
was called to reside for two years in the lower part 
of the city, in the midst of a population exclusively 
Catholic. There was hardly a single Protestant 
family within half of a mile from our domicile. 
When we took up our abode there, we expected to 
be quite solitary and lonely. But very soon our 
neighbors became acquainted with us, and showed 
the utmost civility and attention. We found them 
sincere, warm-hearted, polite, affable, and as kind 
when we were in sickness and trouble as if they 
had been united to us by the closest ties of natural 
affinity. It struck me that persons so agreeable and 
exemplary in private life and the domestic circle 
must have a religion not entirely devoid of exalted 
and ennobling influences. Hence I determined to 
avail myself of the opportunity afforded me of be- 
coming thoroughly acquainted with the religious 
hal)its and practices of the laity in every-day life, as 
well as in the cathedral. 

It was my good fortune to be admitted to a most 
confidential and familiar footing with a Creole fam- 
ily occupying a fashionable and distinguished position 
in society. The lady was a native of New Orleans, 
and had never been out of the State of Louisiana. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 237 

She had not been personally acquainted with any 
Protestant minister except myself. She had never 
read any of our religious books. She had breathed 
a Roman Catholic atmosphere only, from the cradle 
upwards. As to every particular, I have not seen, 
in the whole course of my life, a more charming 
woman. Her personal attractions were of the high- 
est order, set off with that indescribable ease, sim- 
plicity, and elegance peculiar to French ladies, and 
which render their style of manners so fascinating. 
Her mind had been carefully cultivated. Besides 
music and other accomplishments, her knowledge 
of books and the world enabled her to shine in con- 
versation. 

She was an example of industry and economy in 
the management of her domestic affairs. Xo mar- 
ried lady of New England was ever superior to her 
in this respect. She presided at the dinner table 
with unsurpassed grace and dignity ; and before tlie 
guests were seated, invariably called on some one to 
supplicate the blessing of Almighty God upon the 
entertainment. It is no exaggeration to say, that 
this lady possessed those rare excellences and proi> 
erties of a good wife so graphically described in the 
last chapter of the book of Proverbs. 

But what seemed to me most wonderful in the 
person I am speaking of, was the superiority of her 
attaimnents in spiritual excellence. She commenced 
each day with pra3'er, reading, and meditation. On 
one occasion, she was so obliging as to invite me to 
examine her oratory, as she called it — the little 
chapel appropriated for her private devotional exer- 



238 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

cises. Upon a table on one side of the room lay her 
most favorite religious books. Among these were 
the Bible, and the Imitation of Christ, by Thomas 
a Kcmpis — a work praised and used by Protestants 
of all denominations. It has been translated into 
all modern languages, and republished more than a 
thousand times. Indeed, this work is the storehouse 
whence Dr. Doddridge drew his principal materials 
in the composition of that celebrated manual called 
the Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul. I 
remember this work more particularly, because its 
leaves were soiled, and almost worn out by constant 
use, like the horn book in which little children learn 
their letters and rudiments. Indeed, she said that 
for years she had been in the constant habit of pe- 
rusing this volume, along with the sacred Scriptures. 
Of all uninspired productions, it had the warmest 
place in her heart. 

I learned one fact from this lady, which illustrates 
the superior wisdom and efficiency of the Roman 
Catholic religion. The whole routine of her every- 
day life was particularly marked out and prescribed 
by the rules of the church ; so that, by this means, 
every moment and hour were occupied with that 
faithful discharge of duties which consecrated the 
whole scene of her existence, filling her soul with 
an approving conscience, heavenly peace, and virtue 
pure — " sacred, substantial, never-failing bliss." 
But the Protestant minister contents himself with 
meeting his communicants once or twice a week 
only, in the church. Here he expounds to them 
the principles and rules of a holy life. After the 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 239 

benediction they disperse, and he sees them not 
again till the succeeding Sabbath. He cannot tell 
whether, during the intervening days, they have 
lived like heathen or Christians. 

But the pious Catholic, during the whole time 
passed out of the church, feels that he is in the pres- 
ence not only of Almighty God, but also of the priest- 
hood. For every Sunday morning he expects to render 
his father confessor an account of his doings for the 
week just finished. The lady above mentioned, 
speaking of the advantages of frequently confessing 
to a priest, remarked, " Why, if I were not in the 
habit of making a moral reckoning with myself every 
week, but were to put it off to that unknown, dis- 
tant, imaginary period, called the day of judgment, 
with the sincerest intentions, I should be at the best 
but a feeble, languid, vacillating Christian." Mem- 
orable words ! Well would it be for every Protes- 
tant to ponder their import with deep attention. 
The Methodists have in their class meetings a sort 
of substitute for these weekly confessions. Hence 
this cluirch deservedly enjoys a distinguished repu- 
tation for earnest, efficient, and every-day piety. 

One evening I was at her house, when the conver- 
sation turned on the topic of there being no salvation 
out of the pale of the Catholic church. She expressed 
her opinion touching this matter in terms like these : 
" I believe that true religion consists in qualities of 
the heart, not in ceremonies merely — in loving God 
with all the said, and onr neighbors as ourselves. 
They who are actuated supremely by these senti- 
ments must be saved, whether Catholics, Protestants, 



240 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

Jews, Mahometans, or Pagans." A priest, sitting 
by, exclaimed, " That is right ! Why, even Mr. 
Clapp may he saved upon our own principles, for it 
is a canonical doctrine among us, that any honest 
errorist will be accepted on the ground of invincible 
ignorance — an ignorance which he had no adequate 
means of overcoming." In the preceding para- 
graphs I have given a true, unexaggerated, but im- 
perfect portrait of one woman who adorned the 
Catholic communion. There are thousands like it 
in different parts of our beloved land. Would to 
God that every woman in this republic had essen- 
tially the same beautiful character. 

Never, till I went to Louisiana, did I behold that 
living and most perfect exemplification of a Chris- 
tian spirit exhibited in the conduct and benefactions 
of those denominated Sisters of Charity. Look at 
them. They were, in many instances, born and 
bred in the lap of worldly ease and luxury. But, 
in obedience to a sense of religious duty, they have 
relinquished the pleasures of time for the charms of 
a life consecrated to duty and to God. There, calm 
and gentle as angels, they stay at their posts amid 
the most frightful epidemics, till death comes to take 
them to a better world. What a spectacle ! Their 
whole existence is passed in watching the sick, and 
performing for them the most menial offices. They, 
indeed, fulfil the injunction of the apostle, " Honor 
all men." They glorify our common humanity. 
They feed the hungry and clothe the naked. When 
I have seen them smoothing the pillow, and whisper- 
ing the consolations of religion for some unfortunate 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 241 

fellow-being, in his last moments, — dying among 
strangers, far from home, never again to bcliukl 
the face of "wife, cliild, relative, or friend this side 
the grave, — I could hardly realize that they were 
beings of mortality. Tliey seemed to me like min- 
istering angels sent down from the realms of celes- 
tial glory. 0, how immeasurable the disparity be- 
tween one of these noble spirits and a mere creature 
of the feminine gender, devoted exclusively to the 
follies and vanities of fashionable life, who makes a 
dazzling show for a few hours, and then sinks to be 
seen no more. These angels are seen in all our hos- 
pitals, both public and private, and in other places 
where their services are required, irrespective of 
the distinctions of name, religion, party, clime, or 
nation. 

Indeed the Roman Catholic church is infinitely 
superior to any Protestant denomination in its pro- 
visions of mercy and charity for the poor. They 
seek to inspire the most wretched and forlorn with 
those hopes that point to a better world. When I 
was in St. Peter's Church at Rome, on a Sunday 
morning, I saw the poorest, most obscure and neg- 
lected persons kneeling on its splendid pavement, 
by the side of the most noble inhabitants of the 
Eternal City. In that cathedral, there is no place 
assigned for the exclusive use of fashionable people, 
any more than there is in heaven. All meet on the 
same level, as children of one common Father ; as de- 
pendent on the same pardoning mercy ; as travellers 
to the same grave ; as partakers of the same promises, 
and heirs of the same immortal glory. Throughout 
21 



242 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

Catholic Europe, the doors of the churches arc kept 
open day and night, from year to year, and century 
to century. There, at any hour of the day, the for- 
saken outcast, on whom the world has ceased to 
smile, can repair, and falling down before the altar 
of his God, feel supported by the sublime faith that 
he has in heaven a better and everlasting inherit- 
ance. I may say that Catholic churches are the 
homes of the poor. In countries enjoying this form 
of Christianity, the most fallen are incomparably 
less degraded than the worst of those who live in 
Protestant lands. 

Besides, they all, without distinction, participate 
in the sacraments of religion. No one is permitted to 
die without the rites of the church. So it should 
be. Few Protestants know what is the nature of 
that last benediction, which the priest pronounces 
over the dying man. It runs, if I have been cor- 
rectly informed, in a strain somewhat like the fol- 
lowing: "Go forth, thou immortal spirit, in the 
name of the Father who created thee, in the name 
of the Son who died to redeem thee, and in the name 
of the Holy Spirit that sanctifies thee ; and when 
thou leavest the body, may the resplendent multi- 
tudes of angels greet thee ; may the spirits of the 
just, clad in their white robes, embrace thee, and 
conduct thee to the everlasting mansions of the 
blessed." Could there be any thing more appro- 
priate, more beautiful, touching, and grand ? But 
with us the poor die without a clergyman, without 
a prayer, without a friend, without any recognition 
of their immortality, as if they were about to lie 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 243 

down with kindred brutes, in the same ditch, to exist 
no more forever. 

No Protestant denomination, with the exception 
of the Methodists, have suitably remembered the 
poor. This remark was once made by a distin- 
guished prelate of the church of England. In our 
Northern cities. New York, &c., there is an actual 
rivalry as to which church shall be the most exclu- 
sive. And one congregation has erected a separate 
building for the poor to worship in. Churches are 
constrncted on purpose to shut out tlie poor. The 
pews are sold, like the boxes of a theatre, to the 
highest bidder. The poor can never enter there. 
O, what a commentary on the Christianity of our 
times ! After spending the week in folly and dissi- 
pation, the aristocratic among us can repair to a 
fashionable place of worship on the Lord's day 
morning, to gratify a love of dress, to indulge that 
wicked, pitiful vanity, which one act of true reli- 
gious worship would annihilate forever. I do not 
know where all this will end ; but I do know that 
Protestantism will soon go down into the dust and 
darkness of death, unless it clianges its entire eccle- 
siastical plans and policies. Eternal honor be to the 
Roman Catholic church, for practically observing 
the distinctive precept of our religion to remember 
and bless the poor. For the larger the charity of a 
church, the nearer it is to God. 

Now, the Catholic church, as I have described it, 
went along with the first colonists, who settled them- 
selves on the banks of the Mississippi. It has grown 
with their growth and streno-thencd with their 



244 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

strength, and the religious wants of the people of 
Louisiana have been as well supplied as those of 
Massachusetts, all things considered. I never go 
abroad without being compelled to listen to the ut- 
terance of tlie most disparaging and unjust remarks 
about my adopted state. 

Travelling in Europe in 1847, when introduced to 
distinguished literary gentlemen as a resident of 
New Orleans, they almost invariably said, " We have 
always been told that your city is the most wicked, 
immoral place in the United States." One distin- 
guished author, speaking of Louisiana, observed, 
" Its physical resources are undoubtedly very supe- 
rior ; but, alas ! you have no literature and no his- 
tory — the only things which can shed glory on a 
state. This is the first time I have ever met an 
educated gentleman from New Orleans. I am really 
glad to see you. Has Louisiana yet produced any 
scholars, poets, orators, or savans, worthy of note?" 
This question was asked, as I thought, in the spirit of 
sneering and sarcasm. It seemed intended merely 
to wound my feelings ; for, a moment before, I had 
remarked that the first log cabin on the spot where 
New Orleans is built, then a wretched swamp, was 
erected within a century, and that nearly all the 
improvements in the state had been made within 
the last fifty years. 

I ventured to reply thus : " Sir, you are familiar 
with the circle of luiman history. Did you ever 
read of an instance in which a nation only one, two, 
or three hundred years old had enriched itself with 
crio-inal works of science and literature ? It took 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 245 

nearly one hnndred and twenty years to build St. 
Peter's Church. What a long succession of ages 
was requisite to produce the cities, temples, palaces, 
and galleries of art, which adorn England, France, 
and Italy ! Hitherto, the people of Louisiana have 
been occupied, of necessity, in reclaiming and for- 
tifying their lowlands against the annual inunda- 
tions of the Mississippi, building houses, turning 
cypress swamps into beautiful plantations, and pro- 
viding themselves with the various physical accom- 
modations and improvements upon which the super- 
structure of civilized life every where rests. At 
present, for the most part, they import their books, 
not because they want the genius, but the time and 
other means essential to the creations of art and 
philosophy. As to our history, it is very recent, but 
contains some items of interest. You have heard, I 
suppose, of the invasion of New Orleans l)y your 
countrymen in 1815, and remember the results." 

"True," he said, " the victory to which you have 
referred must be classed with the most l)rilliant dis- 
plays of military skill and bravery recorded in the 
annals of time." He was surprised to learn that 
the conquerors of Napoleon were subdued by a 
patriot band of peaceful planters and merchants, 
who fought for their homes with the same undaunt- 
ed, invincible spirit which has inscribed the names 
of Leonidas, Miltiades, and Washington on the tab- 
lets of immortal glory. Charles Gayarre, late sec- 
retary of the State of Louisiana, has given to the 
world a noble work upon our history. It is replete 
with narratives of wild, romantic, and thrilling intcr- 
21 * 



246 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

est. The author is a Creole, thoroughly acquainted 
with the character of Louisiana, deeply enamoured 
of its beauties, and has painted them in elegant and 
polished language. 

When I travel in New England, too, I am often 
pained by hearing Louisiana spoken of in terms of 
disparagement and vituperation. Last summer, a 
clergyman of Massachusetts observed to me that he 
could hardly conceive of a greater calamity than for 
a pious and enlightened minister to be compelled to 
spend his days in Louisiana, where Christianity was 
encumbered by the corruptions of the Roman Catho- 
lic church. I have already given my opinion con- 
cerning the practical Cliristianity displayed by the 
priests, and their care for the poor, the outcast, the 
sick, and the dying. 

There is indeed less religious display in Louisiana 
than in some other sections of our Union ; but if 
what Paul asserts in the thirteenth chapter of First 
Corinthians be admitted, that the essence of Chris- 
tianity consists in generous affections and sympathies 
towards onr fellow-beings, I contend that the inhab- 
itants of Louisiana have qnite as much religion as 
those of Massachusetts, New York, or any otlier 
northern state. Charity, says the apostle, as above 
quoted, is the only thing absolutely needful in order 
to our acceptance with God, the charm and glory of 
the intelligent universe, the very soul, life, and 
breath of heaven itself. I would simply ask our 
traducers whether they can see our hearts, and posi- 
tively pronounce them to be destitute of those noble 
sentiments denominated charity in the New Testa- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 247 

ment. I would invite them to remember and act 
in accordance with the following words of Jesus : 
"Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what 
judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with 
what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you 
again. Who art thou that judgest another man's 
servant? to his own master he standcth or falloth." 
If gospel benevolence proves the existence of Chris- 
tian principles, it is certain that true religion reigns 
and flourishes as vigorously in Louisiana as on the 
banks of the Hudson or Connecticut. 

Some reader may feel inclined to say, "If the above 
statements are true, would it not be best for us all to 
join the Roman Catholic church immediately ? " I 
should answer, " Yes, provided you can honestly sub- 
scribe to its theological opinions." For myself, I can- 
not believe in the Athanasian doctrine of the Trinity. 
If it were in my power to adopt this system, I should 
as soon as possible become a Roman Catholic. I 
cannot but regard our doctrinal views as more sim- 
ple, true, and evangelical than theirs. But their 
ecclesiastical organization, rules, and polity are infi- 
nitely superior to that of any Protestant denomina- 
tion in Christendom. And the more closely a sect 
imitates Popery in these particulars, the greater will 
be their usefulness and prosperity. I wish well to 
this ancient, venerable dispensation of Christianity. 
I rejoice that her churches, schools, and nunneries 
are multiplying on every side. I should like to see 
them spread from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from 
the Arctic Sea to the Antarctic, till the matin and 
vesper bells shall resound along the valleys, from hill 



248 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

to hill, and from mountain to mountain, tlu'ougliout 
a republic covering the entire western continent. 

A great deal has been said of late about the dan- 
ger to this country in consequence of the immigra- 
tion to our shores of Catholics from foreign lands. 
It is thought that the poor Irish, who are constantly 
coming among us in such crowds, will exert a most 
deleterious influence, putting in jeopardy our civil 
liberties, and sowing broadcast over the land the 
seeds of moral contagion and death. The poor 
Irish — may Heaven bless them! I Avant not their 
aid at the ballot box. Never shall I be a candidate 
for their suffrages. Yet I can say witli entire disin- 
terestedness that I cherish towards them the liveliest 
sympathies. 

I have seen much of the Irish in New Orleans, 
in seasons of peril and disaster. I love them, 
however poor, for their many generous and noble 
traits of character. I do not fear that their influ- 
ence will be injurious to us, either in a political or 
religious bearing. But I am reminded that they 
bring to our shores degraded, dangerous characters 
and habits. If it were really so, is it to be wondered 
at, when we remember what scenes of the most atro- 
cious despotism have been grinding them to the dust 
for a long series of ages ? They are exiles, seeking 
a refuge from want and oppression. They are God's 
children. They are our brothers. In the extremest 
need and destitution, should we not open our arms 
to receive them with a cordial welcome, and rejoice 
that they can find a home in this happy land of 
peace, freedom, and plenty ? It is not in my heart 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 249 

to speak of them in terms of contempt and bitter- 
ness. He who applies to them vile and opprobrious 
epithets virtually " reproaches their Maker." 

But, some say, they are stupendously ignorant. 
Is it their fault, if they are so ? For more than 
seventy years, in Ireland, a Catholic schoolmaster 
was liable to be transported, and if he returned, to 
be adjudged guilty of high treason, barbarously put 
to death, drawn and quartered. This most iniquitous 
law broke up their schools. The children of neces- 
sity grew up uneducated, and must come here igno- 
rant, if they come at all. I thank God that they 
do come ; there is room enough for them all. I 
rejoice on their own account ; for it is an encour- 
aging, well-established fact that, in general, Irish 
immigrants, as soon as they land among us, begin to 
improve, and rapidly to assume a more elevated 
character, especially when they do not forsake their 
national church, and prove recreant to the faith of 
tlieir forefathers. Their children can hardly be dis- 
criminated from those born of English ancestors, 
and lose all trace of their original descent, except in 
those impulses of a naturally noble and generous 
heart, which distinguish Irishmen in all times, in all 
latitudes, and under every phase of outward condi- 
tion and circumstances. 

Some are afraid of their religion. It is perfectly 
safe in a free country to tolerate all forms of religion, 
because the principle of reverence in man, uninflu- 
enced by coercion, can never lead to any species of 
immorality. If the Roman Catholics become more 
numerous in this republic than any other sect, the 



250 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

fact will prove conclusively the superiority of their 
teachings and mode of worship. That they should 
grow, till finally to outnumher all the Protestant 
denominations, is hardly possible. Besides, church 
despotism belongs to the things forever gone by. It 
cannot be resuscitated. We might as easily revive a 
belief in knight-errantry, witchcraft, the mythologies 
or fabulous traditions of the old Greek and Roman 
states. The press, the free school, the ballot box, 
and universal education " have already opened to 
every view the palpable truths that the mass of man- 
kind was not l)orn with saddles on their backs, nor a 
favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them 
legitimately by the grace of God." It is a most un- 
founded alarm, then, that these annually increasing 
immigrations of foreigners into the United States 
can essentially interfere with our national prosperity. 
The majority bring with them the means of a com- 
petent support. How could we get along without 
them? Deprived of their aid, what would become 
of our canals, railways, manufactories, rising towns 
and cities, and public works in general, on which 
depends our progress in civilization, wealth, freedom, 
science, morals, and religion ? With the help of 
foreigners this republic was founded ; by their help 
it has been preserved and advanced to its present 
state of glory and happiness. 

The first Protestant church in New Orleans was 
built about forty years ago, belonging to the Episcopal 
denomination. The second was founded by my pred- 
ecessor, the Rev. Sylvester Lamed, and was first 
opened for public worship on the 4th day of July, 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP, liol 

1819. On the lower floor there were one hundred 
and eighteen pews. The galleries were spacious, 
and capable of accommodating about four hundred 
persons. Both sides of the galleries contained free 
seats, which were always filled by strangers. On 
this account, our place of worship was often called 
the Strangers^ Churck. It was generally believed 
that its pastor was a " setter forth of strange gods," 
to use an expression of St. Paul. Hence those who 
regarded him as a false teacher not unfrcquently 
came to the Presbyterian meetings to listen to the 
novelties of an heretical pulpit. Whatever may have 
been the cause, our church was honored by tlie at- 
tendance of the most respectable strangers during 
the winter season. The pews were always taken by 
residents of the city, and there were more applicants 
than could be accommodated. It was a usual saying 
among my orthodox friends, that the merchants and 
planters who came to New Orleans during the healthy 
months to transact business never left the city with- 
out going to " the American theatre, the French 
opera, and Parson Clapp''s church." The insinua- 
tion is obvious. But notwithstanding the slander, 
perhaps the friends of truth have cause to rejoice in 
the greater facilities which were thus afforded for its 
wider dissemination. Whenever and wherever I 
have travelled, on this or the other side of the At- 
lantic, I have constantly met with strangers whose 
first words were, " We have seen you before ; we 
have heard you preach in New Orleans." 

I dined out in London on the second day after my 
arrival. When I entered the drawing room, filled 



252 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

with a most brilliant circle, as soon as I crossed the 
threshold, a lady ran to greet me, saying, " Though 
I have never been introduced to you, I feel as if we 
were old acquaintances, for I visited your church 
several weeks in succession one winter, when so- 
journing in New Orleans." She then mentioned 
some of the subjects upon which I had preached, and 
the anecdotes and arguments which were employed. 
It affected me so deeply that I could scarcely refrain 
from tears. She was hardly seated before another 
lady claimed an acquaintance, on the same ground. 
One winter, it was her good fortune, she said, to be a 
regular attendant at our meetings in New Orleans. 

In Liverpool, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Belfast, Dub- 
lin, even Paris, and Geneva, in Switzerland, I was 
made to feel as if I were at home, by those who rec- 
ognized me at once, but had never seen me except 
in the pulpit, or at a funeral. Merchants, and the 
agents of large mercantile houses from various parts 
of Europe, flock to New Orleans every winter. 
They are, with scarcely an exception, intelligent and 
liberal. Among them are some of the warmest 
friends I have ever had. If I have spent my days 
in advocating sentiments essentially and fatally erro- 
neous, perhaps no minister living has done more hurt 
then I have done. But if, as some believe, I have 
espoused the true and right, it is a pleasing reflec- 
tion, that my humble efforts have perhaps contrib- 
uted to the advancement of virtue and knowledge in 
matters of the deepest importance, both for time and 
eternity. 

Within the last twenty years, Protestant churches 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 253 

have greatly multiplied in New Orleans. At the 
present day, I believe they number twenty-five or 
thirty. The Catholic churches have increased in an 
equal ratio, so that Christianity has the same exter- 
nal means of growth and prosperity in the Crescent 
City as in New York or Boston. The greatest hin- 
derance to the spread of the gospel in New Orleans 
is the peculiar condition of its inhabitants. Nearly 
half of these are what may be called a floating pop-, 
ulation. They go there only for the honorable pur- 
pose of accumulating property. No one of them, 
hardly, looks upon New Orleans as his home. Of 
course, all are anxious to gain a fortune as soon as 
possible. What care they for New Orleans, provided 
their respective personal schemes of profit and inde- 
pendence can be achieved ? Hence the number is 
comparatively smaller than in places where the pop- 
ulation is stable, who feel a deep, abiding interest in 
building up churches and other useful institutions. 
Those who do favor such objects are singularly de- 
voted and self-sacrificing. The society is fluctuating 
and heterogeneous almost beyond a precedent. It 
is constantly changing. In a very short time, the 
settled pastor sees his pews emptied, and filled with 
new occupants. He has hardly time to form tlicir 
acquaintance, before they vanish, to be succeeded by 
another set of strangers. The disadvantages neces- 
sarily attendant on such a state of things are obvi- 
ous. I do not mean to intimate that the people of 
New Orleans are more immoral than city population 
in general. We do not think they are more corrupt, 
or depraved, or worldly, than those who live in Bos- 
22 



254 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

ton and its vicinity. It is not to be wondered at 
that those who go south merely to buy, and sell, and 
get gain, should say to the clergyman and his solici- 
tations, " Go thy way for this time : when I have a 
convenient season I will call for thee." Upon the 
whole, New Orleans perhaps is rising as rapidly in 
the scale of moral and religious improvement as 
could be reasonably expected. 



REV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 255 



CHAPTER X. 

STItlPTOMS OFTEN ACCOMPANYING THE LAST STAGES OF 
THE YELLOW FEVER, ETC. 

In tliG epidemic of 1829, a young man of very 
superior character, and a member of our church, 
fell a victim to the yellow fever. I was called to 
visit him but a short time before he died. I entered 
his chamber precisely at noon. It was a cool, lovely 
day in the latter part of October. I found him 
dressed and walking the room with a brisk, lively 
step. To the inquiry, " How do you do, my friend ? " 
he replied, " I never felt better in my life. I am 
free from pain, and if my attendants would allow it, 
I should immediately go into the streets, and take a 
walk. But the doctor, who has just gone out, says 
that if I have any unsettled business on hand, it 
should be arranged without delay. I have sent for 
you to help me." At that instant, other friends 
came in. His will was made, signed, sealed, and 
witnessed, in a few moments. The company then 
retired, except the nurse and myself. I was asked 
to read the Scriptures, and pray with him. After- 
wards, he intrusted to me some messages for his 
widowed mother and relatives, who lived in a distant 
state. He then remarked, " It is possible I may be 
near my end, but I think that the doctor has mis- 
taken my case. Will you tell me honestly what you 
think about it?" I did not undeceive him. He 



256 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

had made every possible preparation for his last exit, 
and no harm could accrue from his being buoyed up 
with the hope of a speedy recovery. 

And I have sometimes known men apparently in 
the same condition that he was, get well. Nothing 
conduces more to promote the convalescence of a 
yellow fever patient than good spirits. If he makes 
up his mind that his case is a hopeless one, he will 
most certainly die. I have sometimes seen persons 
convalescent before they suspected what was the real 
nature of their malady. In two or three days more, 
they would have been out ; but a careless servant or 
indiscreet visitor, contrary to the express orders of 
the physician, happened to disclose the secret in his 
hearing. He was alarmed by the intelligence, fan- 
cied that he felt worse, and in spite of all our assur- 
ances that he was out of danger, in tlie space of a 
few hours sank rapidly into the arms of death. 

" With thee, sweet Hope, resides the heavenly light 
That pours remotest rapture on the sight ; 
Thine is the charm of life's bewildered way, 
That calls each slumbering passion into play." 

In yellow fever, a strong, unwavering expectation 
of a happy issue often accomplishes more than any 
kind of medicine which could be administered. 

In a certain epidemic, a young man of my ac- 
quaintance had the yellow fever in the severest form. 
As he was near me, and an intimate friend, I became 
one of his nurses. He had not the slightest idea of 
dying, and often said, " Don't be alarmed ; Yellow 
Jack cannot kill me." He indulged in facetious 
remarks, to keep up our spirits, for he saw that we 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 257 

■were anxious and alarmed. On the third day, about 
noon, he was seized with the black vomit. The doc- 
tor came in, loolced at him a moment, and then tak- 
ing me one side, observed, " It is all over with him ; 
he will die before sundown ; I shall give no further 
prescriptions ; do with him now whatever you 
please." There was an old French nurse in the 
room, who had spent her days in taking care of the 
sick, and was familiar with the Creole mode of treat- 
ing the yellow fever. She exclaimed, " If you will 
allow me, I think I can cure this gentleman." We 
of course consented that she should make the trial. 
By this time, the respiration of our friend was get- 
ting very difficult, and his limbs were cold. She 
called for ptisans, spirits, warm water, and various 
other remedies, intended for external application 
only, whose nature I do not remember. We com- 
menced rubbing his body all over, and using every 
possible means to excite perspiration. In less than 
two hours, he began to grow warm ; the vomito 
ceased ; his breathing became easier ; he perspired 
freely, and slept soundly the latter part of the night. 
In the morning, the doctor stopped at the door in his 
gig, to ask what hour the patient had died. To his 
great astonishment, he learned the favorable results 
of our experiment. In a few days after, the man 
entered his store, well. He is still living, and enjoys 
good health. 

In the same epidemic, I visited a young married 

gentleman, not so sick as the one just mentioned, and 

perfectly confident that he should recover. On the 

third day, when the fever had reached its crisis, his 

22* 



258 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

wife became exceedingly alarmed. Beckoning me 
into an adjoining room, she said, " I am afraid my 
luisband will die. He has never made a will. If lie 
leaves us without making one, myself and children 
may be left penniless. I wish you would broach the 
matter to him." I replied, " Your husband is full 
of hope ; he has no thoughts of dying ; and if you 
will let him remain undisturbed till sundown, his 
danger will be passed." However, she refused to 
follow my advice, and declared that if I declined 
acceding to her wishes, she should mention the sub- 
ject to him herself. I was then young, timid, and 
inexperienced, and consented to comply with her 
request. I approached the subject as delicately as 
possible, and remarked to the gentleman that al- 
though he was doing well, and in all probability 
would be abroad in a few days, yet to guard against 
contingencies, it might be expedient to give some 
directions as to his temporal affairs. " Your lady 
would like to have you make your will this morn- 
ing." " Make a will ! " he exclaimed, with a stare 
of astonishment ; " is it possible that I am in any 
danger of dying ? " He became exceedingly agitat- 
ed in a moment, lost his hopes and courage, and in 
three hours was a corpse. In my judgment, if ho 
had been let alone, he would have gone through the 
ordeal safely. From that day to the present, I have 
sought by all lawful means to inspire the sick with 
the most pleasing hopes, and never to intimate any 
thing which may tend to produce alarm, misgiving, 
or despair. 

To return from this digression. I sat with the 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 239 

young gentleman referred to on the first page of this 
chapter three quarters of an hour. All this time 
he was either walking or sitting, and engaged in 
cheerful and animated conversation. Suddenly, lay- 
ing his hand upon his heart, he exclaimed, " I feel 
strangely ; I feel as if I should faint ; I must lie 
down." I immediately rose, and helped him to his 
bed. In one moment after his head was laid upon 
the pillow, a stream of warm, fresh, healthy-looking 
blood gushed forth from his mouth, covering his ap- 
parel, bosom, and bed clothes, as if he had been 
stabbed at the heart with a dirk. After that issue 
of blood he breathed not again. I felt of his heart, 
and it was still beating, and continued to pulsate for 
some moments after respiration had ceased. His 
body was quite as warm as my OAvn. I expected 
with the utmost confidence that life would return ; 
but the next morning he was buried. All these 
things happened in the space of one hour — between 
noon and one o'clock P. ^l. 

This young man was very intelligent, and twenty 
minutes before he expired, conversed with more bril- 
liancy than I had ever heard him before, wlien in the 
plenitude of health.. He repeated poetry, and made 
profound philosophical remarks on life, death, and 
immortality. Among other things, he observed that 
nothing written by man ever impressed him more 
deeply than the following lines of Gray's Elegy : — 



" For who, to dumb Forgetfulness a prey, 

This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned, 
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, 
Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind ? 



260 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

" On some fond breast the parting soul relies ; 
Some pious drops the closing eye requires ; 
E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries ; 
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires." 

He asked me a curious question but a few mo- 
ments before he lay down to die. It was this: 
" Suppose," said he, " that I was placed in some ves- 
sel composed of the densest and hardest materials, 
and hermetically sealed, like the glass receivers used 
in chemical laboratories ; would my disembodied soul 
find any difficulty in permeating this exterior cov- 
ering ? I conclude," he added, " that my spirit, if 
freed from mortal encumbrances, could, in an instant, 
pass directly through the globe, and pay a visit to 
our antipodean brethren, and perhaps make a jour- 
ney to Orion, Pleiades, or Arcturus, in less time 
than it now takes to walk down to a store on Char- 
tres Street." In this voluble and imaginative style, 
like a clairvoyant or mesmerized person, he poured 
forth words with the rapidity of a torrent, till the 
moment of dissolution. His whole being, both intel- 
lectual and physical, seemed to be preternaturally 
and powerfully excited. 

" In cases of yellow fever," says Dr. Dowler, one 
of the most eminent physicians in New Orleans, " at 
the moment of death, the circulation of the blood is 
sometimes more active than it ever was in the zenith 
of life and health. In one instance, a thermometer 
was placed in the armpit of a corpse at the last expira- 
tion, and remained tliere fifty-five minutes. The first 
five minutes gave 105° ; the next five minutes, 10G|° ; 
the next, 108° ; ten minutes more, 108° ; ten min- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 261 

iites, 108° ; ten minutes, 108° ; and the last ten min- 
utes, 108|°. The veins were greatly distended. A 
ligature was placed on the arm ; a vein was opened ; 
about two ounces of blood jetted out, after which a 
trickling took place for a considerable time, amount- 
ing to twelve ounces. The circulation was found to 
be very rapid about tlie head. The left jugular was 
opened, as for ordinary blood-letting, but no bandage 
or pressure was used, the head being raised, so that 
the orifice was on a level with the breast bone. The 
blood jetted out completely, without wetting the 
skin, forming an arch, the diameter of which con- 
tinued to extend for five minutes ; at tlie end of 
eight minutes, the arch had contracted, owing, ap- 
parently, to small clots on the margins of the orifice, 
and tlie skin having once become wet, the blood, 
without being materially diminished, ran down the 
neclv, jetting occasionally on removing clots from the 
orifice. 

" For about one hour, the flow was copious, Init at 
the end of that time, was diminishing rapidly. I 
caught nearly tliree pounds at first ; this, with what 
ran down the neck after the jetting ceased, I estimated 
to amount to five pounds, or eighty ounces, from the 
jugular alone. As the blood-letting progressed, the 
discoloration of the skin of the face diminished. 
There was, as already mentioned, no bandage or 
pressure. It would be impossible, in tliis way, to 
bleed a living man half as much, as collapse of the 
vein, clots, fainting, <tc., would prevent it. Hence 
the circulation in the veins was probably more active 
and persistent than in health. Let it be supposed 



262 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

that the upper or distal end of the jugular contained 
an ounce, when opened ; this being discharged, no 
more could replace it, only by a circulatory force. 
But here the tube is filled eighty times in a few 
minutes. 

" The heat of the patient in the early stages of 
the yellow fever is usually very great, but it falls off 
towards the close of the disease, both in the conva- 
lescent and dying stages ; but among the dead, in 
m,any cases, it rises higher than in life, from a quar- 
ter of an hour to six or seven hours after death, 
rising sometimes to one hundred and thirteen de- 
grees, and falling in the very same and in different 
regions both internally and externally." 

The cases just enumerated arc phenomena not, 
indeed, ordinarily witnessed in yellow fever epidem- 
ics. In this as in all the works of God, amidst a 
general uniformity, individual instances are greatly 
diversified. Is the yellow fever one of God's dispen- 
sations ? Undoubtedly. It is a deduction of reason, 
— may I not say of common sense ? — that there is but 
one efficient Cause of all the phenomena, both phys- 
ical and moral, which take place in our world. The 
Bible affirms repeatedly, and in the strongest terms, 
that no evil can befall man without the knowledge, 
permission, and appointment of our heavenly Father. 
God does not love men less because they are writh- 
ing in pain, and " stretched in Disease's shapes ab- 
horred." These calamities are just as necessary for 
man's development and highest good as the charms 
and advantages of ease, health, youth, bloom, and 
beauty. 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 263 

111 New Orleans, the instances have been numer- 
ous of patients rising from their beds, putting on 
their apparel, and engaging in conversation about 
their business, and plans for the future, but a few 
hours, or even only a few minutes, before death. 
Dr. Cartwright, in his account of the epidemic yel- 
low fever which occurred at Natchez, in 1823, says 
that " in the last stage, in which fever, in the etymo- 
logical sense of the term, disappeared, and all severe 
pain with it, the patient, before debilitated, often 
regained his strength so as to be able to walk about 
the room, and converse cheerfully with his friends. 
When there was no evident cause for this apparent 
recuperation, it invariably portended a fatal ter- 
mination. 

" A shoemaker, the day before death, got out of 
bed, went to work, and nearly finished making a 
shoe." He also says that " in the hospital, four or 
five patients, in the last stage of the disease, ac- 
quired great strength, left their beds, got brooms 
and the like, and after parading through the rooms 
for a time, died almost instantaneously." A man 
has been known to arise, shave, make his toilet with 
unusual care, sit down and write a letter to his dis- 
tant relatives, informing them of his convalescence. 
It was folded, sealed, put into the hands of a ser- 
vant to be conveyed to the post office, and before he 
could return to his master he had expired. In an- 
other instance a man arose, dressed himself, and 
walked the streets the length of several squares, and 
fell lifeless on the banquette. Monsieur Robin, in 
his Travels in Louisiana, mentions the case of a 



264 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

physician attacked with yellow fever, who, iincou- 
scioiis of any sickness, continued to attend his pa- 
tients until just before his death. When interrogated, 
he declared that he was in good health. Others 
died reading, apparently in the greatest joy, and 
sometimes in raptures of delight. A young man 
indited a beautiful epistle to his betrothed as the 
world was receding forever from his view. Going 
to see a sick man one morning, I found him sitting 
at a small table, with his usual costume on, and 
reading a newspaper. He w^as in the greatest flow 
of spirits, full of wit, laughter, merriment, and jest- 
ing. I was requested to take a chair directly oppo- 
site to him, and the table was so narrow tliat our 
faces almost touched each other. He was very fond 
of talking on phrenological subjects. There was an 
acquaintance, whom he did not prize very highly, 
who had just before left the room. He was describ- 
ing his craniology in terms so irresistibly facetious 
that we both burst into a peal of laughter, when, in an 
instant, — in the twinkling of an eye, — he dropped 
his head upon his arms, which were laid upon the 
table before him, and breathed not again. We im- 
mediately placed him upon the bed, to see if he 
could not be resuscitated. But life had fled to re- 
turn no more. 



REV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 265 



CHAPTER XI. 

ON THE CONNECTION BETWEEN MY RELIGIOUS TEACHINGS 
AND THE PREVAILING CHARACTER OF THE PECULIAR 
EXPERIENCES THROUGH WHICH I HAVE PASSED IN NEW 
ORLEANS. 

Fenelon, ill a work which ho wrote on preaching 
and the composition of sermons, says that " no book 
is more important to a clergyman than the volume 
of human life. He should read it by day, and medi- 
tate thereon by night. Such a study will enable 
him to accommodate directions and exhortations to 
persons of all ages, conditions, and circumstances. 
And whenever a preacher advances what touches a 
man's character, or is applicable to his peculiar state 
and deficiencies, he is sure of being heard. To 
discover a person to himself, in a light in which he 
never saw his portrait before, produces a wonderful 
effect." 

Since my settlement in New Orleans, I have tried 
to adopt the platform recommended by this venera- 
ble prelate of the Roman Catholic church. Setting 
aside the Bible, I have learned more about religion 
from reading the phenomena of the human heart 
and human life, than could be acquired from all the 
uninspired books in the world. The topics to which 
I allude in this remark are the following : What is 
man ? Why have we been created capable even of 
angelic virtue, in a world where unavoidable circum- 
23 



266 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

stances render us so vile and grovelling, so frail, un- 
wise, and unworthy ? Whence these longings for 
exquisite, uninterrupted, ever-increasing happiness, 
where existence is made up of such adverse fates, 
hardships, and sufferings ? We feel desires, aspira- 
tions, that soar upwards to the illimitable heavens, 
yet, in fact, are as destitute as the worm under our 
feet. Whence these strange extremes of joy and 
sorrow, light and darkness, good and evil, earth and 
heaven, which are mingled in our nature and allot- 
ments ? These questions weigh heavily upon every 
reflecting mind. 

With the exception of man, we see all things 
around and above us moving on in obedience to laws, 
wise, orderly, and harmonious. How magnificent is 
yon firmament ! How bright and blessed are the 
beams of the sun ! Mountains, hills, plains, valleys, 
and lakes arc formed into scenes of indescribable 
loveliness, as if earth was intended to be a paradise. 
The groves are full of melody. Happy beings range 
every walk and department of the brute creation ; 
but man groans under the crushing burdens of ex- 
istence. He struggles and wears himself out in 
efforts to obtain that food, and other accommoda- 
tions, which the brute enjoys in absolute exemption 
from labor and anxiety. Finally, at an unexpected 
moment, death steps in to close this short, eventful 
career. The curtain falls ; the actor takes his final 
exit for regions hidden from mortal sight by clouds 
and shadows utterly impervious to the light of 
human reason. 

How inexplicable do these things appear ! I have 



REV, THEODORE CLAPP. 267 

been surrounded with honest and inquiring sceptics. 
Often have they addressed mo thus : " Why were 
we not made like the brutes, to run a constant round 
of gratification only ? Why were we not so created 
as to be capable of accomplishing all the purposes 
of our existence, and attaining the highest happi- 
ness, by the indulgences merely of our natural 
desires and appetites ? How different is our con- 
dition from this ! At every step we encounter vari- 
ous forms of opposition. Obstacles and obstructions 
come from without and from within. Every day we 
feel the pressure of wants which earth cannot supply ; 
every week, in spite of ourselves, is more or less a 
week of trials, sorrow, temptation, and bereavement. 
Now, reason looks upon this state of things, not with 
wonder only, but also witli utter amazement. Rea- 
son inquires. If God is good, why is not man a larger 
recipient of his goodness ? Why do not conscience 
and pleasure, desire and duty, always speak the 
same language ? Why are they ever clashing, oppo- 
site, and contradictory, the one clamorously de- 
manding what the other forbids ? Why have not 
things on earth been so arranged that our state liere 
might correspond with the picture suggested by these 
lines of the poet : — 

' To virtue in the paths of pleasure trod, 
And owned a Father when they o^viied a God ; 
No ill could fear in Ilim, but understood 
A sovereign being, but a sovereign good ' ? 

Yet in the sublime depths of Nature above, around, 
beneath, and within us, wo see no traces of a 



268 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

Father's hand. As if in contempt of our weakness 
and misery, she rolls on in her course — dark, stern, 
silent, resistless, and appalling as the grave." 

To such objections I have usually replied in the 
following terms : It is obvious that if we had notli- 
ing to guide us but animal appetites and passions, 
we could not occupy the rank of moral and account- 
able beings. We should in that case, like the bird, 
reptile, or fish, belong to the brute creation merely. 
What, then, would become of glory, wisdom and 
worth, indomitable energy and resolution, the tram- 
pling upon the mean and base, the triumphing over 
the vile — all those beauties and sublimities of virtue 
which shed eternal lustre on the character and his- 
tory of man, that proclaim his alliance to the Divin- 
ity, and the everlasting expansion of his destiny ? 
If our passions were not so constituted as to rebel 
often against our sense of the true, good, and proper, 
we should be as incapable of performing noble actions 
as the oak of the forest or a buffalo on the prairies. 

I am compelled, then, to regard the world in wliich 
we are placed as perfectly adapted to our wants and 
the sublime purposes of our creation. There is no 
other spot in the universe where we could be as well 
off for the time being as we are here. God has 
placed us in this school of difficulties for benevolent 
purposes only, that by resisting, struggling against, 
and overcoming them, we might develop our powers, 
rise to a more intimate union with himself, and form 
the habits required for our exaltation and blessed- 
ness, as we shall travel onward upon the line of an 
existence that can never terminate. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 2G9 

The peculiar life which I was called to pass through 
in New Orleans enforced upon me the conclusion of 
Scripture that there is no absolute, eternal evil in 
the boundless universe of God. Nothing that we 
call evil is final. It is only the necessary means of 
a greater and ever-expanding good. 

" Presumptuous man, wonldst thou the reason find 
"Why made so weak, so little, and so blind ? 
First, if thou canst, the harder reason guess, 
Why made no weaker, blinder, and no less ; 
Ask of thy mother earth why oaks are made 
Taller and stronger than the weeds they shade ; 
Or ask of yonder argent fields above 
Why Jove's satellites arc less than Jove; 
Say not, then, man's imperfect, Heaven in fault ; 
Say, rather, man's as perfect as he ought. 
His knowledge measured to his state and place, 
His time a moment, and a point his space." 

Again, by living in New Orleans I have been deeply 
impressed with the vanity of human ambition, and 
the worthlessness of what men usually most covet — 
the possession of wealth. Cases of the following 
description have been constantly passing before my 
eyes, like the successive pictures of a panorama. A 
young man settles in New Orleans. He is noble and 
highly gifted, the delight and hope of his friends, 
relatives, and acquaintances. After the ordeal of 
the yellow fever, he becomes established in a profita- 
ble course of business. With a most commendable 
perseverance he carries forward his various enter- 
prises, till he believes himself independently rich. 
Happening to be in the counting room of one of 
these fortunate persons, on a certain morning in the 
month of November, he spoke to me thus : — 
23 * 



270 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

" I pity you, when I think of the hard, cheerless, 
and unprofitable labors of your professional life. 
You are just emerging from the toils and horrors of 
another epidemic. Poor you are to-day, and proba- 
bly always will be. Nor is your destitution to be 
regarded in any other light than a misfortune beyond 
your control. The sufferings which you are com- 
pelled to relieve will always keep your purse empty. 
It will be impossible for you, as long as you live 
here, to lay up any thing against sickness or old age. 
My own fortune I consider as a fixed fact. This 
coming winter I intend to wind up my affairs, and 
retire to some healthy part of the world, to enjoy 
the remainder of my days in leisure, in the tran- 
quil pursuits of an independent country life. What 
is the use of clerical labors in such a place as this, 
where Mammon and Bacchus reign supreme ? If 
you were a lawyer, merchant, or politician, you 
might succeed here. And if you are determined to 
pursue your present vocation, would it not be better 
to repair to a more propitious latitude — to Boston, 
or some northern city, where the institutions of 
religion are settled, and where your labors and tal- 
ents would be better understood and appreciated ? " 

This advice emanated from a noble and sincere 
mind, but it was a mind which had never been lift- 
ed above the low plane of a merely physical and 
sensual world. At that time I was upon the vesti- 
bule of my clerical career, young, and inexperienced 
as to the vicissitudes of a temporal life. Walking 
from this interview to my study, the reflection was 
deeply impressed on my heart that the counsel of 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 271 

my friend was deserving of serious consideration. 
It might be that he was right. It might be that I 
was making a foolish and visionary sacrifice, by 
occupying sucli a forbidding and unpromising field 
of labor as New Orleans. The subject weighed 
heavily on my mind. I never for a moment har- 
bored the idea of engaging in any secular profession. 
But the thought occurred to me that it would per- 
haps be expedient to accept the invitation of my 
friend to accompany him the next summer on a tour 
through the Northern and Western States, with a 
view, among other things, of selecting a more eligi- 
ble theatre for my professional pursuits. 

Here the matter rested for a while. In tlie in- 
scrutable scheme of divine Providence, this person 
was not permitted to realize the beautiful plan which 
he had marked out for future consummation. It 
was otherwise decreed in the counsels of Heaven. 
Within a few weeks after the conversation just men- 
tioned, and before he had enjoyed an opportunity to 
call in his means, and invest them in permanent 
securities, a great, sudden, and most unexpected 
revidsion in the commercial world swept over our 
city. His darling fortune, which ho had looked upon 
to be as stable as the everlasting hills, was swallowed 
up forever. All his possessions and glories vanished 
in a day. He never recovered from the blow. A 
few years afterwards I saw him laid in the grave, a 
bankrupt not only as to property, but also in regard 
to moral worth and spiritual excellence. 

This and similar incidents put an utter end to all 
thoughts of taking any steps to better my outward 



272 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

circumstances in life. I felt the surpassing wisdom 
of those words of the Psalmist, " Yerily, every man 
in his firmest state is but a vapor. Surely every 
man walketh as a shadow. Surely he disquieteth 
himself in vain. He heapeth up treasures, and know- 
eth not who will enjoy them." The heathen poet 
Horace somewhere says, " What is less durable than 
flowers in spring ? What is more changeable than 
the moon ? Yet these are the best images of hu- 
man life. Why, then, should creatures, by nature 
formed to mortality, fatigue themselves with endless 
and uncertain projects ? " The anecdote to which I 
have adverted presents a point of instruction, al- 
though not, indeed, novel, nor extraordinary ; yet 
I look back upon it as an epoch in my moral history, 
and as such, it is, perhaps, deserving a place in 
these very humble records. I could multiply in- 
stances of the kind, in my subsequent experiences, 
whose recital would fill volumes. 

About that time my mind was first opened to real- 
ize the truth and beauty of the following description, 
which, though familiar to me from a child, I had 
never before appreciated : — 

" Know then this truth, (enough for man to know,) 
Virtue alone is happiness below ; 
The only point where human bliss stands still, 
And tastes the good, unmingled with the ill ; 
Where only merit constant pay receives. 
Is blessed in what it takes and what it gives ; 
The joy unequalled, if its end is gain, 
And if it lose, attended with no pain ; 
Without satiety, though e'er so blessed, 
And but more relished as the more distressed ; 
The broadest mirth unfeeling folly wears 
Less pleasing far than virtue's very tears; 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 273 

Good, from each object, from each place acquired, 
Forever exercised, yet never tired ; 
Never elated while one man's oppressed, 
Never dejected while another's blessed ; 
And where no wants, no wishes can remain, 
Since but to wish more virtue is to gain." 

This is a poetic paraphrase of those memorable 
■words of Scripture, " Great peace have they who 
love thj law. They have a happiness which the 
world can neither give nor destroy." For years I 
have been in the habit of repeating this quotation, 
many times in a day — I might almost say continu- 
ally. Its beauties have pervaded my soul, and dic- 
tated the predominant thoughts, feelings, and actions 
of my life. They have afforded me not only a purer 
but an infinitely higher degree of happiness than I 
could have derived from all the merely temporal pos- 
sessions and glories of earth. That hour I became 
richer than gold could make mo, when God was 
pleased to reveal to my heart the sublime sentiment, 
that human happiness does not consist in the pleas- 
ures of a physical and sensvial world, in whatever 
profusion or variety they be enjoyed. 

Jesus Christ began his first discourse by declaring 
to his hearers that it was not in wealth, fame, office, 
power, or pleasure, to confer the bliss they sighed 
for. Blessed, he said, are they only who are enam- 
oured of the charms of wisdom, integrity, and moral 
excellence ; who admire a gentle, meek, forgiving, 
pure, social, loving spirit ; who have the livinp; God 
for their help, and whose only hope is in his infinite 
life, light, truth, love, wisdom, power, and benefi- 
cence. 



274 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

Of the whole number of young men who have 
immigrated to New Orleans since my first acquaint- 
ance with that place, very few have succeeded in 
acquiring an independence. One of the fortunate 
few retired to his native place, and built a charming 
villa, where he and his family might be happy for 
the rest of their days. But in one year after their 
removal, the father, mother, and two children were 
laid in their graves, and left their wealth to others. 
Now, this gentleman was wise in accumulating prop- 
erty by all the honorable means in his power. I 
think, too, that he was wise in leaving New Orleans 
when he did, and fixing his residence in a more salu- 
brious and beautiful place. But he was not wise in 
abjuring religion, and going upon the ground that 
his happiness depended upon outward condition and 
circumstances only. There is no delusion by which 
mankind are greater sufferers than this. 

It is hard for them to believe that virtue and hap- 
piness are coincident. The doctrine of the New 
Testament is that all living, whether high or low, 
learned or ignorant, rich or poor, would be happy 
to-day, if they wore sincerely actuated by the princi- 
ples of the gospel. It is hard to admit this truth. 
"We struggle against it to the last. Tell a young 
man that he may live and die poor, and yet be a no- 
ble being, obtain the highest honors of life, and enjoy 
its purest pleasures, your words will sound to him 
like the very essence of folly and fanaticism. He 
thinks that his mission in this world is to get riches, 
to amass gold, to scrape together the dust of earth, 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 275 

and that without these he will sink into utter wretch- 
edness and insignificance. 

Imagine the external condition of mankind to be 
represented by a scale resembling that of a ther- 
mometer. Place a rude, illiterate, inexperienced, 
wicked young man, say of the age of twenty, at the 
lowest degree in this scale. Now, suppose that, 
without the slightest intellectual or moral improve- 
ment, he were to ascend from one stage to an- 
other of success, till he became invested with the 
splendors and advantages of a millionnaire. During 
all this progression of outward good, he would suffer 
a regular diminution of enjoyment, and in his final 
state would be more wretched than he was at the 
beginning. This may seem incredible to some, 
but I feel certain of its truth, because in several in- 
stances I have witnessed the identical experiment, 
and carefully noted the result. 

I once heard a merchant, now in his grave, who 
began life with nothing, and had acquired a large 
estate, confess that no successes which attended 
him in the accumulation of property had added a 
particle to his happiness. " So far as circumstances 
of fortune are concerned," he remarked, " I was far 
happier when a poor boy fifteen years old, in a coun- 
try store, and earning a few dollars only per month, 
than I have been at any subsequent period of my 
life." Yet this man had never failed in his business, 
had never met with any considerable reverses of for- 
tune. The course of his affairs had been remarka- 
bly smooth and prosperous. At the same time ho 
was surrounded with the endearments of a refined, 



276 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

happy family, and not a member of his domestic 
circle had ever died. 

This gentleman took a pew in our church. He 
had occupied it but one Sunday previous to the visit, 
during wliich the conversation just referred to took 
place. Monday morning I called on him, and was 
conducted into a private apartment, a recess to his 
counting room. Alone and undisturbed we had a 
long conversation on the subject of religion. He 
led off by saying that " yesterday was the first time 
he had ever attended church in New Orleans, and 
that he had never in his life before had any conver- 
sation with a clergyman on religious matters." It 
was evident that he had read and thought much. 
But from a youth ho had cherished the idea that 
Christianity was but a delusion, and that death was 
an eternal sleep. When I asked why he came to 
hear me preach, he replied " that Judge C. had told 
him that our pulpit advocated some new views of 
the Bible and a future state, which he thought would 
be interesting to me." Then he made the remark 
already quoted, that he had not found happiness in 
temporal prosperity. " Can you explain," said he, 
" the reasons of my failure ? " 

I answered him by making a quotation which 
seemed to me relevant. In my efforts to enlighten 
and convince honest inquirers after truth, it has long 
been my habit to use, as far as possible, the argu- 
ments and words of distinguished writers in prefer- 
ence to my own suggestions. In this manner I have 
given to the ideas which I wished to communicate 
the power and authority of a great name, that to 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 277 

many minds is quite irresistible. I said Dr. Palcy 
somewhere remarks, " It is a well-established fact in 
the science of human happiness, that no plenitude 
of outward gratifications can make their possessors 
happy, unless he have something in reserve, some- 
thing to look forward to, and hope for, beyond the 
the grave. The merely worldly man feels himself 
confined ; he sees the limits on every side, there is 
no room for an adequate expansion of his soul. The 
human mind is so organized that it can never bo 
filled, sufficiently interested by the realities of to- 
day. It is constantly looking beyond the scenes of 
the present tense, to find refreshment and support in 
the anticipated glories of some distant event or at- 
tainment. Condition, external circumstances, have 
so little connection with our true welfare as to ren- 
der it probable that the means of happiness are 
equally distributed among mankind, and that in this 
respect one person has no advantage over another. 
Throughout society, every external blessing that one 
possesses, not enjoyed by his neighbor, has some off- 
set or counterbalancing drawback, every peculiar 
evil to which he is subjected some peculiar compen- 
sation." 

He replied, " Dr. Palcy was a great man, but I 
cannot receive, even on his authority, what seems 
unreasonable, repugnant to common sense. That 
poor mechanic, whom you see there laying brick, 
is obliged to work hard every day to support him- 
self and family. Do you intend to say that his 
means of felicity, so far as external matters are con- 
cerned, are equal to those which I possess ? Does 
24 



278 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

not my fortune enable me to taste of a multitude 
of enjoyments absolutely inaccessible to this work- 



man 



? " 



I replied, " You may not estimate correctly the 
connection between mere wealth and inward peace. 
What do you actually gain by your superior abun- 
dance ? Can it purchase for you mental acqui- 
sitions — the joys, hopes, treasures of wisdom, 
knowledge, and piety ? Is there any golden key 
wherewith one can unlock the gates of paradise ? 
Can silver buy exemption from weakness, sin, error, 
pain, disease, bereavement, death, or any other evil ? 
0, how little can it add to our real satisfaction ! Ju- 
venal, a heathen poet, says, ' In your prayers do not 
ask the gods for silver, gold, houses, lands, fame, 
power, and other gifts of an outward fortune, but 
rather beseech them to bestow on you the blessings 
of good sense, a generous heart, moral excellence, a 
pure and virtuous life.' These constitute the only 
source of substantial happiness. And the means of 
enjoying these, like the light and air, are universally 
diffused, 

" I repeat it, that poor operative has essentially 
the same means of satisfaction which you enjoy. He 
has the same body, with its wondrous mechanism, 
and power of action and enjoyment ; the same at- 
tributes of mind — reason, conscience, love, joy, hope, 
and immortal aspirations ; the same access to the 
pleasures which are derived from the pursuits of 
business, society, books, the intercourse of friend- 
ship, and the domestic circle. He has the same sun, 
air, earth, water, food, nightly repose. He has the 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 279 

same Bible, the same God, the same Saviour, and 
the same prospect of final, ever-progressive bliss in 
the kingdom of heaven. 

" Contrasted with these sublime possessions, how 
utterly insignificant are those accidents which flatter 
pride and vanity ! That man may, this instant, as 
he is adjusting that brick, cherish a single thought 
which, on the score of happiness, is worth more than 
all your perishable treasures." 

Not long after the conversation above narrated, 
this gentleman, who had become a regular attendant 
on our preaching, was called to taste the bitter cup 
of grief. Two of his children died, not far from the 
same time ; then his wife expired, very sxiddenly. 
His own health soon failed, and he was numbered 
witli the dead. In the last conversation which I had 
with him, he said, " I no longer doubt the reality of 
a future state of existence. Could I have been so 
made as to remember and love my wife and children 
after their decease, if we were destined never to 
meet again ? It seems to me impossible. In tliat 
case, I am deceived, trifled with, and cheated, by the 
inevitable laws and operations of my own mind. 
Besides, if there be no future state, human life is 
not worth having. We exist here only to be broken 
with toil and years ; to be racked with pain ; to be 
wasted with sickness ; to be desolated witli one surge 
of sorrow and disappointment after another, till we 
sink, to be seen no more on earth. If I thought 
that this was the last of us, I should be an atheist." 
He died a firm believer in God, revelation, virtue, 
and immortality. 



280 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

Is there a greater delusion among men than the 
false estimate, which is almost universal, concerning 
the external advantages of life, as a means of happi- 
ness ? Cowper somewhere says, " I have no doubt, 
if we saw the whole truth, we should behold more 
of divine love in what is called the evil, than the 
good, of human existence, and should rather encoun- 
ter every day the greatest difficulties and sufferings, 
than to float smoothly and quietly down the current 
of a being, calm and untroubled, but self-regarding 
only." 

My experiences have taught me another lesson — 
that, in every instance, persons are happy just in pro- 
portion as they are earnest, self-sacrificing, and un- 
wearied in endeavoring to discharge the offices of 
mercy. Cold, narrow, unsympathizing, self-indul- 
gent people are always miserable. In the epidemic 
of 1853, a wealthy family of my acquaintance left 
New Orleans before the sickly season set in, to spend 
the summer in travelling. They crossed the At- 
lantic to gaze upon the wonders of the old world — 
its scenery, its palaces, parks, and galleries of art. 
It was wise and commendable in them, no doubt, to 
employ their time and means in this way. I allude 
to the fact simply for tlie purpose of illustration. 

Near my residence was another family, in mod- 
erate circumstances, who never went out of the city 
during that awful visitation. They spent the sum- 
mer in the labors of philanthropy, visiting the poor 
and sick, devoting their days and nights to the re- 
lief of destitute and deserted strangers, for several 
months in succession. Now, if these people were 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 281 

animated by the beautiful sentiments of love, by- 
sympathy, heroism, and the soul-exalting spirit of 
self-sacrifice, — to say nothing of duty, — were they 
not happier in performing those noble works of phi- 
lanthropy than their neighbors, who passed the same 
time in journeying through foreign lands ? I an- 
swer this question affirmatively ; for true happiness 
comes not from the perishable glories of earth, from 
luxury, the accumulation of wealth, from case, van- 
ity, or pride, but from conflicts with and triumph 
over selfish desires, the subjugation of dishonorable 
appetites and passions, the devotion of our lives, 
and all our resources, in the service of God and hu- 
manity. 

Happy is he who feels the nobility of a humble 
and benevolent spirit. We read that Jesus Christ 
lived to deny and sacrifice himself for the salvation 
of a world. A child knows that " for the joy tliat 
was set before him, he endured the agonies of the 
cross." He tells us that we must follow his example, 
tread in his footsteps, and daily take up the cross. 
This is, of course, figurative language. It means 
that we must be ready at all times to sacrifice our 
feelings, taste, convenience, and emolument to pro- 
mote the well-being of those around us. We are 
bound to goodness by the laws of an everlasting ne- 
cessity. He who feels not the impulses of Christian 
love, though in possession of the amplest means, 
excludes himself even from temporal enjoyment. 
He can derive no real bliss from heaven above or 
earth beneath — from nature, business, amusements, 
art, society, science, or literature. 
24* 



282 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

There is an ordinance appointed by heaven for the 
government of the planets, sun, moon, and stars. 
Fire, earth, sea, air, times and seasons, trees and 
animals, are in harmony with the laws prescribed for 
them by the Creator. Now, God has so fashioned 
and attuned our intellectual and moral faculties, 
that as the thrusting of the hand into a flame of fire 
awakens acute pain, so a merely self-indulgent life 
narrows, darkens, and agonizes the soul, and by a 
law as fixed as that which carries the heavenly bod- 
ies through the fields of space. 

If, then, we thoroughly understood the soul, and 
consulted its essential wants, we should be lovers of 
God and duty more than lovers of self and selfish 
pleasure. We should realize the impossibility of 
getting along happily without rejoicing with those 
that rejoice and weeping with those that weep. We 
should esteem it of more importance to be actuated 
by a strong sensibility to the wants and sorrows of 
our fellow-beings, than to gain wealth, ease, or ag- 
grandizement. If we understood ourselves, we 
should realize that our own welfare and advancement 
were indissolubly connected with the interests of 
our neighbors. 

0, there is no bliss for man on earth but that which 
flows from noble and divine thoughts, a soul alive to 
God, energetic, spotless, unwearied, zealous in doing 
good, a heart warmed with the sunshine of a heav- 
enly world, enriched with a godlike, calm, unwaver- 
ing liope, through Jesus, of that immortal blessedness 
which awaits the children of God. The man who 
lives only for himself, and cares not for others, is 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 283 

always restless and dissatisfied. Preaching, argu- 
ments, the impressive appeals of human experience, 
affect him no more than if he were " a brotlier to the 
insensible rock, or sluggish clod, which the rude 
swain turns with his share, and treads upon." 

I have studied the Bible every day for the last 
forty years. This devotedness to the volume of re- 
vealed truth has given to my theological views and 
preacliing those peculiarities wliich liavc been so ex- 
tensively regarded as erroneous and unscriptural. 
But the particular subjects of my sermons in New 
Orleans were generally suggested by things which 
parochial visiting enforced upon my attention. 
Events, incidents, casual remarks, hints given in 
some hasty discussion of a supposed fallacy in my 
customary teachings, or something else wliich hap- 
pened in my usual rounds each Monday morning, led 
me into trains of thought and reasonings which 
were embodied in my next Sunday's discourse. I 
have never advocated in the pulpit what is techni- 
cally called the faith or creed of any particular de- 
nomination, but have endeavored to accommodate 
instructions to those individual cases and exigencies 
which at the time seemed to demand especial and 
immediate attention. My daily out-door experiences 
and sermons on the Sabbath sustained to each other 
the relation of cause and effect. Hence my preach- 
ing had some novelties, and a great many imperfec- 
tions ; but they were unavoidable, and grew out of 
circumstances and influences which were above and 
beyond my control. 



284 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 



CHAPTER XY. 

DANGEROUS ILLNESS. — CONVALESCENCE. — JOURNEY TO 
EUROPE. 

The first week of November, 1846, disease, in one 
of its most painful and incurable forms, made me a 
prisoner in my chamber for the space of ten weeks. 
Some years previous to this date, I had suffered at 
times severely from a morbid state of the liver, one of 
the most prevalent complaints among those residents 
of Louisiana who were born in the latitude of snow 
and ice. An internal abscess was formed, which, 
fortunately for my preservation, matured and came 
away (to use a phrase current in the medical pro- 
fession) spontaneously. 

During the whole month of November, my strength 
gradually but constantly declined, till I was pros- 
trated to infantine weakness. It was a great effort 
to raise my hand, and respiration was so difficult, I 
felt as if every breath would be my last. That point 
of my disease termed the crisis continued two or 
three days. During this time I was unable to close 
my eyes, and had abandoned even the hope of recov- 
ery. One night I said to Mrs. Clapp, " I am dying." 
She thought so too. An icy coldness had nearly 
reached the citadel of life. We were alone. I was 
in perfect possession of my consciousness. From 
some cause or other, my mental powers were much 
more active than when in health. My memory was 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 285 

SO excited, vigorous, and grasping, that I recalled 
easily the whole of my life, and could repeat to my- 
self passages in the Hebrew, Greek, and Latin lan- 
guages without an effort. All the literature that I 
had acquired came up before me with supernatural 
freshness and charms. A true record of my thoughts 
and feelings that memora1)le night would fill a vol- 
ume — and a volume infinitely more interesting than 
any other exercises that I have ever enjoyed. 

Strange as the declaration may sound to some, 
tliat was probably the happiest night of my life. 
My soul was filled with delightful imaginations. I 
fancied that I saw angels playing on their golden 
harps, in the most exquisite and enrapturing airs. 
A kind of profound curiosity, mixed with the high- 
est delight, dwelt on my mind. For at that period 
I was not afraid to die. I kept looking to catch a 
glimpse of the spirit land, whose scenes I expected 
every moment would burst upon me, when I should 
close my eyes on earth and open them upon the light 
of a day whose sun will never go down. Xotliing 
which I had ever read seemed so sweet to me as the 
following words of the Psalmist : " Yet am I ever 
under thy care ; by my right hand thou dost hold 
me up. Thou wilt guide me with thy counsel, and 
at last receive me to glory. Whom have I in 
heaven but thee, and whom on earth do I love in 
comparison with thee ? Though my flesh and my 
heart fail, God is the strength of my heart, and my 
portion forever." Had my death occurred that 
night, I should have expired with the lines of Dr. 
"Watts upon my lips : — 



286 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

" Jesus can make a dying bed, 
Feel soft as downy pillows are, 
Whilst on his breast I lean my head, 
And breathe my life out sweetly there." 

As to the sins or the virtues of my past life, the 
thought of the former gave me no pain, and that of 
the latter afforded me no joy, hope, or consolation, 
with respect to my future destiny. I could think of 
nothing but the infinite, everlasting, unchangeable 
mercy of God in Christ. I felt certain that he would 
go with me through the valley of death, and beyond 
the dark, dying struggle, introduce me to the inherit- 
ance incorruptible, undefiled, and unfading. I re- 
joiced in the thought, that before another rising sun, 
I should be permitted to lay down the burdens of 
this "worn being, so full of pain." A feeling not 
unlike regret accompanied my first impression that 
I was returning back to mingle again in the trials, 
duties, and vicissitudes of earth. 

About one o'clock in the morning I began to lose 
my sight, and was for some time almost blind. 
Now I said, " ' This is the last of earth.' Father, 
into thy hands I co7nmend my spirit.'*^ After the lapse 
of an hour or two, during which consciousness never 
forsook me an instant, my vision began to return. 
The vital powers rallied, the chill of death abated 
into a genial warmth and gentle perspiration. Be- 
fore the dawn of day the physicians were in the 
room, and announced that a favorable change had 
taken place in my symptoms. Yet, they said, my 
debility was so extreme, that nothing but the most 
careful nursing could raise me again. There was 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 287 

but one person on earth able and willing to afford 
me the attention which my case required. That 
was my wife, who scarcely left my bedside for two 
months. She watched over me day and night, 
and administered with her own hands the various 
restoratives prescribed by the physicians. Her ex- 
traordinary and unintermitted efforts saved my life. 
And were I in possession of the whole earth, I could 
not make adequate returns and acknowledgments 
for her unparalleled self-sacrifice in my behalf. 

I have not mentioned my feelings in the imme- 
diate prospect of death as furnishing any evidence 
of personal piety, or the correctness of my religious 
faith at the time. No test of character is more 
vague, indefinite, and unsatisfactory, than the expe- 
riences of a dying hour. I once saw a man, who 
had led what is called an immoral life, walk down 
that valley of mystery with a sustained demeanor, with 
a calm aspect, with a firm step, with expressions of 
the gentlest sympathy towards surrounding relatives 
and friends, and with a hope triumphant and trans- 
porting. On the contrary, I have seen the timid, 
pure, conscientious Christian die in despair, though 
professing to believe in One who has destroyed the 
power of death, who came to deliver us from its fear, 
and unfold to a suffering world the bright and exalt- 
ing hopes of a future, endless, and blessed existence. 
Why ? Because he had imbibed the erroneous sen- 
timent, that future happiness will be awarded to 
those only who die in the possession of a peculiar 
fiiith. Eternal bliss is bestowed upon the principle 
of grace irrespective of our character and conduct 



288 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

this side the grave. The New Testament makes it 
certain that a disembodied spirit cannot commit sin, 
nor suffer pain. 

The beginning of the year 1847 was blessed with 
mild, balmy weather, precisely like that which pre- 
vails in what is termed the Indian summer. The 
thermometer for a fortnight ranged, on an average, 
from sixty to seventy degrees with a clear, bracing 
atmosphere, and a lovely Italian sky, " which does 
not seem to bound your thought, scarcely your vision, 
but carries them away to the serene, ever-opening 
depths of the illimitable heavens." Every one, who, 
after suffering severe illness, has, from the extreme of 
emaciation and weakness, recovered a new existence, 
has probably been conscious of the same delightful 
sensations of convalescence which I experienced. 
"When I became strong enough to walk across my 
room, though in such a state of debility that two min- 
utes' exercise fatigued me so much that I was obliged 
to sit down and rest, my bosom was filled with 
calm, placid, and serene sensations, not unlike those 
which are supposed to be the portion of the perfect 
and sinless in the land of immortality. 

Often during the day my feelings became buoyant, 
elastic, bounding with thrills of happiness which I do 
not remember to have experienced before or since. 
The recollection of the manner in which the world 
had affected me in former years, its ten thousand 
hopes, desires, and passions, seemed like a dream. 
I felt sure that those vanities would never return 
iipon me ; that they had departed forever from my 
bosom and embrace. But alas ! when health returned, 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 289 

life and earth regained their wonted charms, and feel- 
ings and passions revived which I had hoped would 
never again knock at the door of my heart for ad- 
mission. But they did knock with a fiendish impa- 
tience, and a legion of demons at their back, ready 
to commence dread havoc upon that beautiful struc- 
ture, which I fancied sickness and renewed promises 
of faithfulness to God had reared to be the everlast- 
ing dwelling place of my soul. This illustrates the 
meaning and truthfulness of that portion of Scrip- 
ture in which the apostle affirms that God has 
placed us here, under the dominion of laws which 
make all men more or less foolish, weak, erring, sin- 
ful, and unhappy, in spite of their utmost wisdom, 
prayerfulness, resolution, and self-denial. 

1 shall never forget, until memory has lost her 
seat, the first time I rode out after being shut up in 
my chamber more than two months. It was on a 
pleasant morning, about eleven o'clock. Every ob- 
ject had a new aspect and a new coloring. I looked 
with fresh and admiring views upon the heavens and 
earth, the gardens and fields, as if I had never before 
beheld the beautiful face of nature. I thought of 
the words of the dying Rousseau. When he appre- 
hended that his final exit drew near, he desired the 
windows of his apartment to be opened, that he 
might have the pleasure, as he said, of beholding 
nature once more. " How lovely she is ! " he ex- 
claimed ; " how pure and serene thy countenance !" 
Were not those feelings natural and becoming a 
Christian ? Who knows but they sprang from the 
workings of a heart touched at that solemn crisis by 
25 



290 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

divine grace, and prepared to be ushered into the 
higher scenes, wonders, and glories of a spiritual 
existence ? I had a quantity of happiness that morn- 
ing more than enough to counterbalance the pains 
of my whole life. 

I think the greatest sin of which we are guilty is 
ingratitude. Life here, properly viewed, is crowned 
with glory and honor, with loving kindness and ten- 
der mercy. " It is a great and ineffable good. God 
saw and pronounced that it was good. It is good in 
the unnumbered sources of happiness around it. It is 
good in the ten thousand buoyant and happy affections 
within it. It is good in its connection with infinite 
goodness, and in its hope of infinite glory licreafter. 
True, our life is frail in its earthly state, and it is often 
bowed down with heavy burdens ; but still it endures, 
and revives, and flourishes ; still it is redeemed from 
destruction, and crowned with superabounding mer- 
cies. Frail, indeed, and yet strong is it in its heav- 
enly nature. Here the immortal is clothed with 
mortality, and the incorruptible with corruption. 
It is like an instrument formed for celestial melody, 
whose materials, like those of an organ, were taken 
from things that moulder and go back to dust ; but 
lo, the hand of the divine Artificer has been upon 
it ! It is curiously wrought ; it is fearfully and won- 
derfully made ; it is fashioned for every tone of 
gladness, hope, and triumph. It may be relaxed, 
but it can be strung again. It may send forth a 
mournful strain, but it is formed also for the music 
of heavenly joy. Even its sadness is pleasing and 
mournful to the soul. Even suffering is hallowed 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 291 

and dear. Life has that vahie, that even misery 
cannot destroy it. It neutralizes grief, and makes 
it a source of deep and sacred interest. Ah, holy 
hours of sorrow and suffering ! hours of communion 
with the great and triumphant Sufferer ! Who that has 
passed through your silent moments of trust, prayer, 
and resignation, would give you up for all the bright- 
ness and beatitude of earth's temporal prosperity ? " * 
The third Sabbath of January, 1847, though still 
too feeble to study or preach, I insisted upon being 
carried to the church, that I might once more sit in 
the pulpit a few moments only, and look out upon a 
congregation that I had never expected to meet 
again on earth. Notice of my intention was inserted 
in the papers of the previous day — Saturday. The 
morning was fair, and the house was filled to over- 
flowing. When the carriage was at the door, my 
friends advanced the strongest motives to dissuade 
mo from fulfilling the appointment. But my family 
pliysician overruled their objections, on the ground 
that it would probably do me good to gratify the in- 
tense longing which I had to revisit the sanctuary of 
God. It was agreed that I should not attempt to 
speak at all, but sit quietly in the pulpit whilst the 
choir sang an anthem, accompanied with the organ. 
I fully intended to keep my promise. My friends 
helped me up the pulpit stairs. The ascent exhaust- 
ed me, and I sank into the chair in a fainting condi- 
tion. I could not see the faces of the hearers. Cor- 
dials were applied freely, and in a few moments I 
felt better. The organ struck up its heavenly tones. 

* Dr. Dewey. 



292 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

Soon I could see the audience distinctly, and recog- 
nized many countenances of dear and beloved ones, 
to whom I had in my mind bidden an eternal adieu. 
The effect was overwhelming. I felt as if I had re- 
turned from the dead, to afford ocular demonstration 
that our life will not be lost in the dark, silent tomb. 

When the music ceased, prompted by an irresistible 
impulse, I rose to speak. One of the trustees, Avho 
sat in a chair near me, in a whisper said, " You must 
not attempt to address the audience. Pronounce 
the benediction and retire." But I could not help 
repeating a few verses of the 103d Psalm : " Bless 
the Lord, my soul, and all that is within me, bless 
his holy name," &c. This excited me so much, I 
felt such an excess of joy, that I was compelled to 
relieve my mind by giving it utterance in something 
like the following words : — 

" My brethren, I have been raised from the bor- 
ders of the grave by that ever-present Friend who 
giveth us life, breath, and all things. One night 
during my late confinement, I expected every mo- 
ment to breathe my last. My mind was never more 
calm or composed. What made me so ? An unfal- 
tering faith in God, Jesus, and immortality ; the 
thought that I belonged to God, not only by creation, 
an upholding providence, and a solemn accountabil- 
ity, but by a love vast as infinitude — a love that no 
amount of iniquity on my part could change into 
coldness, indifference, or hatred — a love that can 
never, even for a moment, intermit its depth, fervor, 
strength, tenderness ; can never waver or fail ; which 
makes it certain that we cannot be finally and for- 



REV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 293 

ever lost, because our own glory and happiness are 
identified with those of the Creator himself. The 
atoning, reconciling sacrifice made by Christ is sim- 
ply a clear, unambiguous revelation of God's love 
for man. 

" The moment that a person understands and ap- 
preciates the doctrine of the gospel, — that the works 
of nature, the events of time, and the destinies of a 
coming eternity, are but the counsels and unfoldings 
of a perfect, boundless beneficence ; that the Power 
which called us into existence, and has ordained all 
the changes of health, sickness, joy, sorrow, pros- 
perity, and gloom, which we experience, is infinite, 
unchanging, eternal, and almighty love, — that 
very instant he becomes an enlightened, rejoicing 
disciple of the Son of God. As the light of this 
revelation dawns upon his soul, he exclaims, ' All is 
good, all is well, all is right, and shall be forever.' 
His religion is not a cold, barren speculation, but a 
profound sentiment ; a deep, intense, all-subduing, 
and sanctifying faith ; a faith that every thing which 
befalls him, from the cradle to the grave, will issue 
in results great and glorious beyond the reach of 
thought or imagination. Through the telescope of 
the Bible, he looks out upon the enrapturing scenes 
of a future state, rising in all the effulgence of an 
ever-progressive glory, beyond the sad ruins of earth 
and time. Hope in an inheritance so exalted lifts 
the mind above all the reverses, sorrows, and convul- 
sions of earth. What can reach or disturb the pro- 
found peace awakened by a principle so divine ? 

" My friends, when you come to die, if blessed 
25* 



294 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

with an unimpaired consciousness, how utterly 
worthless will then appear to you the wealth, fame, 
and aggrandizement for which so many strive and 
struggle, weary and wear themselves out, regardless 
of their higher interests ! Then, too, you will hnd 
no satisfaction in the memory of your good deeds — 
deeds of faith, repentance, devotion, holiness, or 
charity. Though ever so eminent in Christian at- 
tainments, you will feel that you have no more claim, 
on the score of justice, to the divine mercy than the 
greatest reprobate that ever died. Your only prayer 
will be that of the publican, ' God be merciful to me 
a sinner.' Your only hope, then, will be that it is the 
free, undeserved, omnipotent purpose of the Father, 
in spite of your sins and follies, to raise you finally 
to that higher existence where wisdom, virtue, and 
holiness will reign unclouded and immeasurable. 

"I do not believe that it is in our power to love God 
at all without a firm, full, and immovable expecta- 
tion of living forever in a world to come. Suppose 
that at this very moment, by irresistible arguments, 
or any other means, each of us should become in- 
spired with a deep, intense, undoubting conviction 
that we had no souls ; that the Bible, church, pulpit, 
and philosophy are themselves deluded, and are de- 
luding the world, touching this subject ; that what 
we call the mind, is destined to pass away with the 
body, bend before the same resistless law of change, 
decline, die, and go back to dust ; imagine, I moan, 
that we were compelled to feel, with absolute certain- 
ty, that as beast, bird, fish, and insect retire at last 
from every blade of grass, flower, shrub, tree, plain. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 295 

and valley, hill and mountain, from every region of 
water and air, to exist no more, so we, also, at the 
expiration of this feverish, transitory life, will be 
doomed to close our eyes on a glorious universe, and 
he swallowed up in the dark gulf of eternal forgct- 
fulness. Now, I ask, with such a gloomy, revolting 
creed, could we possibly cherish the emotions of piety, 
offer adoration to the Supreme, rehearse even the 
Lord's prayer with sincerity, present upon the altar 
of this or any other church the sacrifice of a calm, 
contented, grateful, and rejoicing heart ? This ques- 
tion requires no answer. We must be able to look 
away with buoyant hope beyond the grave, before 
the thought of an almighty Creator can inspire us 
witli wonder and delight — before we can become 
enamoured of the charms of virtue, cease to indulge 
and obey the bodily appetites, or exult in the mani- 
festations of infinity, omnipotence, and boundless 
love displayed in the beautiful, but shadowy, evanes- 
cent scenes of the present world. "When a person 
fully believes that a nobler, immortal destiny awaits, 
not himself, relatives, and friends only, but all the 
race of Adam, he must of necessity become pious ; 
his heart is instantly replenished with holy, divine 
affections, and goes forth to engage spontaneously in 
the love, worship, and service of the great Father. 

" In my late sickness, I was made unspeakably 
happy by the assurance, resting on the revelation of 
Jesus, that my heavenly Father can never allow a 
real hurt or injuri/ to be inflicted upon me here or 
hereafter ; can never permit me to be hurt or injured 
by myself or others, (punishment is not hurt, but 



296 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

healing ;) can never allow my intellectual, moral 
being to be crushed out by the mysterious forces of 
time, nature, change, sin, or death. All the inhab- 
itants of New Orleans would become Christians to- 
day, if they could be made to realize the true char- 
acter of God — if they could be brought to see the 
wonders of that higher existence which Jesus has 
unfolded ; an existence where, instead of sin, sick- 
ness, broken, bereaved hearts, and bitter tears, will 
reign unmingled purity, ever-advancing knowledge, 
and constantly increasing joy in the realms of a life 
which can never terminate." 

I was occupied twenty minutes in delivering the 
above address. My friends remarked that at tlie 
commencement my face was as pallid as that of a 
corpse ; but as I warmed with tlie subject, it was 
flushed with a glow rarely exhibited even in my days 
of health. Words flowed from me with the ease and 
freedom of one speaking under the influence of mes- 
merism. The perspiration flowed in streams. I was 
carried home and laid upon the bed, where I slept 
profoundly till the next morning. No alarming conse- 
quences followed the cifort, as ray friends anticipated. 
On the contrary, I felt much better for it, and went 
to the church every succeeding Sabbath morning the 
next two months. On the first Sunday in April, 1847, 
I preached a farewell discourse preparatory to my 
leaving for Europe. It was the wish of my physi- 
cians that I should select a mode of crossing the At- 
lantic which would protract the period of my voyage 
as long as possible. I therefore embarked in a mer- 
chant vessel for Liverpool, which left New Orleans 
the beginning of May. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 297 

It took IIS fifty-fivo days to make the passage. For 
one week we advanced scarcely a mile, being obliged 
to lie to in order to repair damages received from a 
tornado. Dr. Dewey, in his Journal of a Tour to Eu- 
rope, says, " I defy any body, not thoroughly accus- 
tomed to the sea, to enjoy its grandeur, after having 
been rocked into that indescribable state of ennui, 
disquiet, discomfort, and inertness which the sea 
often produces. I do not mean seasickness, but a 
sickness of the sea, which has never, that I know, 
been described. It is a tremendous ennui, a com- 
plete inaptitude to all enjoyment, a total inability to 
be pleased with any thing. Nothing is agreeable — 
neither eating, nor drinking, nor walking, nor talk- 
ing, nor reading, nor writing ; nor even is going to 
sleep an agreeable process, and waking is perfect 
misery." 

My experience was directly the reverse of this 
description. Every thing was agreeable to mo. I 
never passed as many happy days in succession on 
land as I did during my voyage from New Orleans to 
Liverpool. I will speak of the delightful sensations 
which I experienced under two heads, to adopt the 
sermon style — those which came from an external 
source, and those derived from an internal origin. 
I will begin with the external, premising that, like 
Dr. Dewey, I was never seasick for a moment in my 
whole life. On the contrary, when at sea I have a 
more voracious appetite, and a keener gusto for the 
indulgences of the table, than I ever feel on shore. 
I could sit all day and gaze with rapture on the great 
sea, that majestic and lovely emblem of the all-wise, 



298 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

all-perfect, all-beautiful, and eternal One. The 
mighty deep mirrors his amazing, illimitable perfec- 
tions. Its wonderful extent, of which we can form 
no adequate conception, — its unexplored abysses, 
lower than plummet ever sounded, — are appealed to 
by inspired writers as the most striking revelations 
of infinitude and omnipotence which our globe pre- 
sents. The continual motion and irresistible force 
of that mass of waters compel us to feel our noth- 
ingness — how entirely dependent and insignificant 
we are. I cannot imagine how it is possible for even 
an unreflecting person to look on this theatre of a 
Creator's manifestations without a sublime, thrilling- 
sense of his presence and attributes. 

" Thou glorious mirror, where the Ahiiighty's form 
Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time, 
Calm or con\iilsccl, in breeze, or gale, or storm, 
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime 
Dark-heaving, boundless, endless, and sublime — 
The image of eternity — the throne 
Of the Invisible." 

The ocean docs not, as some suppose, exhibit al- 
ways to our view the same unvaried and monotonous 
scene. Far from it. Its aspects are endlessly diver- 
sified. No genius of poet, painter, or scholar can 
adequately delineate them. I remember one morn- 
ing, when in the middle of the Atlantic, that, as far 
as my eye extended, there was an expanse whicli 
looked smooth, unruffled, and shining like a surface 
of polished glass. Not a breath of air disturbed tlie 
deep serene. All was still — silent as the tomb. I 
fancied, almost, that I had entered some new, strange 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 299 

"world, some boundless solitude of waters, that were 
incapable of motion. But all at once a change came 
over the scene ; from the point where I was sitting 
on the deck to the utmost verge of the horizon, the 
surface of the sea began to crisp or quiver ; it was 
roughened as if fanned "by the invisible wings of 
elves and fairies on some maritime expedition." This 
was followed by a slight, delicate, graceful undula- 
tion of the waters, of surpassing and ineffable beauty. 
If we beheld the ocean only in this state, we should 
not suspect that it was an element made for this dark, 
stormy planet, " but to kiss and lave with blessed- 
ness the beautiful shores of some sunny emerald 
isle of unfading flowers, eternal spring, and cloud- 
less skies." 

But in a few moments, all this • loveliness disa]> 
pcared. I was struck with a sublime, awful sound, 
like the mighty roar of Niagara. It was the pre- 
cursor of a storm. Soon the main was lashed into 
terrihc fury. I thought of that magnificent descrip- 
tion of a tempest in the first book of Virgil's ^Eneid. 
On every side, white-crested billows were seen rising 
up in the shape of pyramids ; hills and mountains, 
alternated by corresponding depressions ; eddying, 
boiling, maddened whirlpools of foam. For some 
reason or other, the waves all seemed rushing 
towards the vessel. But this appearance, as the 
captain informed me, was a mere ocular deception. 
When a mountainous mass of waters fell upon the 
deck of the ship, it trembled in every plank and 
timber, like a leaf in the wind. Sometimes her 
course was checked by the crushing weight, so that 



300 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

for a moment she would seem to stand still. The 
force of a downward billow often breaks in pieces 
the bows of a vessel in an instant, consigning all on 
board to a watery grave. The wind continued to 
blow harder and harder through the day. 

The night came on, terrible with blackness, thun- 
der and lightning. All nature seemed to be in com- 
motion. My berth was a hammock, suspended in 
the centre of the main cabin, on which I hardly felt 
the motion of the vessel. And although to my in- 
experienced eye our condition was very perilous, I 
laid myself down, and slept as soundly as I ever did 
on shore, in my own chamber, in the full quietness and 
peace of a happy home. Every thing that human power 
could effect was done to secure our safety. With 
perfect composure, I was enabled to leave the issue 
in the hands of God, under whose providence we are 
just as safe in one situation as another. I thought 
of the following eloquent passage in the writings of 
an old divine : " We are all travellers, prosecuting 
the voyage of time ; launched upon an ocean where 
storms and tempests often prevail ; where the ele- 
ments are agitated, and the waves boisterous ; where 
clouds frequently gather upon our prospects, dark 
and fearful, and the winds blow bleak and wild. 
Thus endangered, nobody can be happy without the 
firm faith that some arm mightier than that of man 
or nature holds the helm of affairs, and some wisdom 
more far-reaching than mortal ken is our guide, 
guard, and panoply, amid the rocks, shoals, and 
whirlpools that beset our perilous way." 

A clear, placid, summer evening at sea is a scene 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 301 

resplendent with beauty. The last red hues of ex- 
piring day are fading in the twilight ; seated on the 
deck, you are charmed with the evanescent loveliness 
of the setting sun, and think, " Even thus transitory 
is all of earth, which we so much admire." As tlie 
heavens seem to be sinking into utter night, a soli- 
tary liglit shines out ; it is in the direction of your 
home ; you think of those relatives and friends whom 
no distance can remove from your affections ; in a 
few moments, hundreds more make their appearance. 
Then comes the galaxy, — the milky way, which the 
ancient poets called the high road or pathway of the 
gods, — having a boldness and brilliancy never seen 
on land. With what grandeur does a sight of the 
firmament strike the imagination, when beheld in a 
clear night at sea, filled with stars scattered in such 
infinite numbers, and in such splendid profusion ! 
The ship runs so smoothly that you are almost un- 
conscious of motion. All her sails arc filled ; and 
seen at a distance, she resembles " some snow-white, 
beauteous bird, afloat in the heavens on her airy 
pinions." 

But a change comes over the prospect. The moon 
unveils her peerless light ; tlie stars hide their di- 
minished heads ; a silvered radiance sparkles over all 
the waters ; you witness the same phenomenon which 
Homer described three thousand years ago, at the 
close of the eighth book of the Iliad : — 

" At length the moon, refulgent lamp of night, 
O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light ; 
When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, 
And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene, 
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies." 

26 



802 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

As you dwell on the scene, your imagination is over- 
powered, and you wander in a world of fancy and 
encliantment ; your bosom is filled with those pure, 
ennobling, and refined sentiments that recognize the 
infinite — which open to the inward eye glimpses of 
the calm, bright, unbroken peace of that happier 
and immortal state of being to which death will in- 
troduce us. 

One's enjoyment at sea depends materially upon 
his daily habits. He should arouse himself in the 
morning at the first peep of dawn. Whilst the decks 
are being washed, let him attend to his toilet, and 
with as much care and particularity as when on land ; 
then let him read his Bible, and say his prayers ; by 
this time, breakfast will be ready ; when finished, he 
should walk on deck an hour at least ; the rest of 
the morning may be spent in study, reading, and 
conversation. These remarks refer to one who does 
not suffer from seasickness. If such a person is mis- 
erable at sea, it is because he eats too much, sleeps 
too much, or gives way to sensations of indolence. 

How glorious a morning on the ocean ! " Yonder 
comes the powerful king of day." At first you see 
only a small portion of his disk — not more than a 
hair's breadth above the ocean's bed. Bright rays, 
like long lines of gold, are sent out over the trem- 
bling waters, that seem rejoicing to welcome the 
new-born day. Soon tlie whole orb appears, bathed 
in a flood of light, brilliant in all the orange, azure, 
and purple glories of the rainbow. Presently light, 
fleecy clouds collect around the sun. These are 
constantly changing their tints, from a deep yellow, 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 303 

then a straw color, then a willow green, and finally 
perhaps the dark, beautiful gray of autumn. Be- 
neath all this glory, the boundless field of waters 
reflects, with nnspeakablc beauty, the splendor of 
the clouds and sky, leaving the impression that you 
are in some fairy regions, infinitely removed from 
the dull realities of earth. The same wonders are 
often repeated at the close of the day. Is it strange 
that the poor Indian, when gazing upon the sublimi- 
ties of the sunset, should realize the presence of the 
Great Spirit, and cherish the hope of a humble 
heaven " behind the cloud-topped hill," where he 
will some day repose under the shade of the tree of 
life, and bathe in the waters of perennial bliss ? O 
the surpassing freshness and beauty of an early dawn 
at sea ! Its glowing radiance, its crimson splendors, 
its rich, variegated drapery of clouds, present to the 
eye the most glorious assemblage of beautiful objects 
ever beheld. 

Nothing to me is more mysterious than the idio- 
syncrasy of an educated gentleman who is miserable 
on the ocean, although not seasick. For myself, I 
should like to make a voyage once a year, if I had 
the means and time. I can say with Byron, — 

" And I have loved thee, Ocean, and ray joy 
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be 

Borne, like thy bubbles, onward ; from a boy 
I wantoned with thy breakers ; they to me 
"Were a delight, and if the freshening sea 

Made them a terror, 'twas a pleasing fear." 

To me it seems an enviable end to be submerged 
or lost at sea. All is soon over ; there is no trouble 



304 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

about a shroud, coffin, funeral, or tomb. " Old 
ocean's gray and melancholy waste " is a magnificent 
sepulchre. Who would not like to sleep in it ? Per- 
haps it may be my own destiny to be buried there. 
I have no objection, if such be the will of Heaven. 
I ought to have been a sailor. My natural taste and 
feelings fit me for such a mode of life ; and a good 
sailor is quite as useful and respectable a being as a 
good clergyman. Some may wonder at the taste 
above expressed. 

" Let him who crawls, enamoured of decay, 
Cling to his couch, and sicken years away. 
Heave his thick breath, and shake his palsied head, 
"While gasp by gasp he falters forth his soul ; 
Ours with one pang, one bound, escapes control." 

Now I will look at a few of those pleasures which 
a thinking man may enjoy at sea, derived from in- 
ternal sources. To illustrate this topic, I will state 
an item of my own experience. When I crossed the 
Atlantic, I carried in my pocket a small edition of 
the New Testament in Greek, with the Polymicrian 
Lexicon, in the same language. Along with them, I 
kept by me constantly the Psalms of David, in the 
Hebrew. They were three little books of the duo- 
decimo size, with paper very thin, and distinctly 
printed. They occupied such a small compass, and 
were so handy, that I was never without them for a 
moment. For the last forty years it has been my 
habit to abjure desultory reading. I never think of 
perusing a book through in course. I use it just as 
an advocate does his law books, to find arguments, 
facts, or beauties, with reference to some particular 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 305 

subject. Before reaching the Balize, I adopted the 
following platform : First, to examine what the 
New Testament says about Jesus Christ ; secondly, 
what it teaches on the subject of rewards and pun- 
ishments ; thirdly, the revelations it contains in re- 
gard to a future state ; fourthly, I resolved to collect 
and to compare all the representations in the gospel, 
as to the nature of true holiness. I determined to 
devote every morning to these biblical investigations, 
and every evening to other reading, conversation, 
and exercise. 

During the whole voyage to Liverpool, which oc- 
cupied nearly eight weeks, I followed faithfully this 
programme, with the exception of three or four days, 
when, the vessel being sorely tempest-tossed, there 
was no opportunity for reading. I will barely state 
the result of my scriptural researches on the topics 
which have just been specified. First, it cannot be 
denied that there is a mystery in Christ's nature, 
mission, and saving influences, not solved in the New 
Testament. But there is a mystery in every thing. 
" Science," says Lord Bacon, " is built upon, and 
encompassed on every side by, problems which the 
human mind never has, and never will be able to 
solve this side the grave. So Christianity may be 
compared to a monument, lifting its head to heaven 
upon the very boundaries between the known and 
unknown. Still, we are taught that Jesus Christ is 
not, strictly speaking, an infinite being, a being 
whose nature is coextensive with God's, and covering 
the whole immeasurable area of the universe, physi- 
cal and spiritual, created and uncreated. As we are 
20* 



306 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

SO organized that we cannot help feehng that five 
is less than twenty, so we know that the same being 
cannot be at once finite and infinite, dependent and 
almighty, bounded and at tlic same moment un- 
bonnded. The mind of Jesus is a human mind, 
perfectly immaculate, and endowed with the highest 
possible gifts and graces." For it pleased the Father 
that in Him all fulness should dwell — the fulness of 
the Godhead bodily. Hence he is called our elder 
brother, which he could not be, unless his intrinsic, 
inherent, essential nature was precisely the same as 
ours, sin excepted. In addition, he was sent forth 
into the world and commissioned by the Father to 
teach, enlighten, sanctify, and immortalize the chil- 
dren of men. 

Secondly. It cannot be proved by the teachings 
of Christ and his apostles, that punishments dis- 
pensed for the bad actions which men do in the 
present world will continue forever. On the con- 
trary, we are told that death, the last enemy of man, 
shall be destroyed ; and also that he who is dead 
has lost even the power of sinning. Consequently the 
future world is a very different one from this. Where 
there are no bodies, no earthly appetites or passions, 
there can be neither sin nor suffering. In the dis- 
embodied state individuals will doubtless enjoy a 
higher or lower degree of happiness in proportion to 
their previous attainments ; but none can be mis- 
erable. Yet the consequences of our conduct in 
time will flow on forever, sin and pain excepted. 

Thirdly. The happiness of man in the future 
state is based by the New Testament writers alto- 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 307 

gether upon the resurrection from the dead. It 
affirms repeatedly that all mankind, both just and 
unjust, will be brought to enjoy a state of immor- 
tality beyond the grave. It affirms also that in the 
immortal world there will be no death, no sin, no 
suffering, because all there, being the children of the 
resurrection, will be the sons of God, and equal 
unto the angels. A person has no more power to 
fit himself for a happy immortality than he has to 
create a world. Our only ground of hope as to the 
future is the promise of Jesus that all mankind, 
irrespective of their character or conduct here, in a 
future state will be endued with a nature spiritual 
and incorruptible. 

Fourthly. Paul and his coadjutors represent the 
hope of a blessed existence after death, as a most 
efficient principle of sanctification. He who has 
this hope will no longer " be foolish, deceived, diso- 
bedient, serving divers lusts and pleasures, living in 
envy and malice, hateful, and hating others." No 
longer Avill he be irreverent and unthankful towards 
God. No longer will he prevaricate or falsify, or 
stain his conscience for profit or pleasure. No longer 
will he steep his soul in the gross and debasing in- 
dulgences of sense. The charms of rectitude, hu- 
mility, and other moral qualities, that constitute 
Christian excellence, will so captivate his heart as to 
render him insensible to the inferior attractions of 
an outward, worldly life. Holiness, as defined in the 
gospel, is a deep, intense, supreme, absorbing love of 
spiritual beauty, self-government, the joy of a benev- 
olent spirit, the smiles of an approving conscience, 



808 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

the calm, gentle, soul-satisfying affections of hope, 
gratitude, and trust in God. 

I am well aware that there is no originality in 
these views. But during this voyage they came to 
my mind with a freshness, power, and plenitude 
that I had never before experienced. I kept them 
before me morning, noon, and night. By them I 
was enabled to commune with God and feel the in- 
spiration of his Spirit, as I gazed upon the amazing 
manifestations of divine majesty in the mighty deep. 
I felt that Christianity was from God, that mere 
men were no more competent to originate it than to 
create the Atlantic Ocean. When I sat on deck in 
a pleasant night, admiring the diffuse light of the 
galaxy, that astronomers tell us is composed of the 
mingled effulgence of innumerable stars, each of 
which is probably tlie centre of a system, like our 
own sun, — when I thought of the immensity of the 
physical universe, those worlds upon worlds, and 
systems upon systems, stretching onward and on- 
ward to infinitude, and all revolving in the course 
of inconceivable ages around some common centre., 
— all these external glories did not appear to me 
more striking and magnificent than that s])iritual 
world which Jesus has unfolded, and of which the 
material creation is but a type, symbol, or representa- 
tion. Nay, the moral character of Jesus struck me 
as more grand than the outward universe, with all 
its sensible laws and phenomena. As 1 look upon the 
Son of God, in that last trying scene, when the storm 
of a world's scorn and hatred was beating over him, — 
calm, gentle, forgiving, intrepid, resting solely upon 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 309 

the eternal truth of God, — superior to vulgar pas- 
sions and fear, to pain, peril, and death in its most 
appalling form, — I am impressed with a sense of the 
sublime, in comparison with which, heaven, earth, 
and sea, and all that is therein, seem poor and insig- 
nificant. 

Akenside, author of the Pleasures of Imagination, 
in the following beautiful passage, describes the vast 
superiority of moral sublimity, when contrasted with 
that of the natural world : — 

•' Look, then, abroad through nature to the range 
Of planets, suns, and adamantine spheres, 
Wheeling unshaken through the void immense ; 
And speak, O man ! does this capacious scene 
With half that kindling majesty dilate 
Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose 
Refulgent from the stroke of Cn:sar's fate, 
Amid the crowd of patriots, and his' arm 
Aloft extending, like eternal Jove, 
When guilt brings down the thunder, called aloud 
On TuUy's name, and shook his crimson steel, 
And bade the father of his country hail ! 
For lo ! the tyrant prostrate on the dust ; 
And Rome again is free." 

But who was Brutus, (conceding tlie purity of 
his motives,) who was Socrates, or Plato, compared 
with Jesus ? And yet, if Jesus has taught truly, 
tliere is not a child of Adam who will not become, 
ultimately, as wise, as immaculate, as great, as 
divine as he himself was on the day of his cruci- 
fixion. The mind of Jesus was essentially a human 
mind filled with the fulness of God. Nothing loftier, 
notliing less. lie could not be higher without be- 
coming God himself — very God. lie came to save 



310 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

all men. Hence it is certain that the lowest and 
weakest person of our race will make an everlasting 
advancement in wisdom and goodness. His facul- 
ties will go on unfolding and ripening forever ; his 
acquisitions more extended, his range of thought 
wider, his perceptions more clear, his character more 
beautiful ; and thus he will ascend from height 
to height, from glory to glory, without ever reach- 
ing an acme — the final summit of intellectual and 
moral attainments ; for that summit is the infinite 
Jehovah. 

Yes, it was when sailing 

" O'er the glad waters of the dark-blue sea, 
My thoughts as boundless, and my soul as free," 

that grace was given me to realize, with new, fresh, 
ecstatic delight, my relation to Jesus Christ, the 
Author and Finisher of our faith. I used to be con- 
tinually saying to myself, as I looked out upon this 
vast creation, " I am indeed a child of its infinite 
Author — bound to his throne by the indissoluble 
ties of a common nature ; a child ennobled and 
redeemed by the mission of Jesus, standing in the 
centre of this magnificent panorama of worlds, with 
the glorious certainty that they are all my own 
inheritance, that I shall live to enjoy them forever. 
For all things are mine, whether the present world, 
or life, or death, or things present, or things to 
come ; all arc mine, because I am Christ's, and 
Christ is God's." Such were the thoughts that 
made those fifty-five days an epoch in my life — an 
epoch brighter than any of its predecessors. I felt 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 311 

all the time as if I could see God, as if I were a 
partaker of his spirit and perfections, and through 
them was destined to triumph over nature, frailty, 
change, sin, corruption, and the grave. And even 
in the worst weather, I laid myself down and slept 
as sweetly, with a heart as calm, and light, and 
joyous, as if, like the sea bird, I could weather 
the fierce storm, and float unhurt on the tossing 
billows. 

In the afternoons my reading was more easy, mis- 
cellaneous, and discursive, interspersed with the 
pleasures of social intercourse. Yet there were but 
two persons on board with whom I held much con- 
versation — the captain and the only passenger 
except myself. The former was a native of Salem, 
Massachusetts, a gentleman of extensive reading, 
who had spent forty-three years of his life at sea, 
and seen the whole globe. His memory was most 
retentive, and he had a fund of information and 
anecdote absolutely inexhaustible. He was a pious 
man, and had prayers in his state room every morning 
and evening. A love stronger than death grew up 
between us during this voyage. He was blessed with 
the taste of a finished scholar, a knowledge both of 
books and mankind, which I have rarely met with, 
and freedom from bigotry more perfect than I ever 
saw before or since. He died two years ago, and is 
now beyond the praise or censure of mortals. 

My fellow-passenger was a resident of New Or- 
leans. Although a most intelligent, agreeable, and 
worthy gentleman, and most excellent company, 
he was at that time inclined to be sceptical on 



312 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

the subject of religion. But when I met him hist 
winter, I found that he had become an ardent, zeal- 
ous spiritualist, and of course a firm believer in God, 
inspiration, and immortality. The change was to 
me the more extraordinary, because he has a mind 
remarkably cool, clear, and philosophical. I have 
never known a person less liable to be led astray by 
sophistries and enthusiasm of any kind. Who dares 
say that there is nothing true, divine, or beautiful 
in modern spiritualism ? 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 313 



CHAPTER XIII. 

INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL IN EUROPE. — REFLECTIONS WHICH 
A SUPERFICIAL VIEW OF THE OLD WORLD AWAKENED 
IN MY MIND. 

I HAD read with deep interest and close attention, 
for many years, the most celebrated works concern- 
ing Enrope, published by the tourists and literary 
men of the United States, before I saw the old world 
with my own eyes. I carried with mo across the 
Atlantic Dr. Dewey's Journal of a Tour in Europe. 
From what I knew of this great and good man, I 
was able to rely on the fidelity of his pen with a full, 
unlimited confidence. By a universally acknowl- 
edged superiority of culture, imagination, and ca- 
pacity of oljserving, he was eminently qualified to 
give a vivid and beautiful description of the various 
scenes and objects which attracted his notice. 

A careful perusal of what he had written, I vainly 
imagined, wo\dd present ideas and pictures to my 
mental eye essentially resembling those derived 
from actual observation. Before landing at Liver- 
pool, I thought myself pretty well acquainted with 
that city and the objects of interest which it con- 
tained, because my reading about them had been so 
minute and thorough. When we were sailing up St. 
George's Cliannel, I observed to the captain that I 
did not expect to be much smitten with the external 
appearance of any thing which I might see in Wales, 
27 



314 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

England, or Scotland ; for long familiarity with the 
best descriptions of the various objects which they 
exhibit would probably make them seem to me like 
old acquaintances. He replied, smiling at my stu- 
pidity, (I suppose,) " You may have acquired from 
books a rich fund of information concerning the 
geography, statistics, and history of these regions, 
but the impressions which the seeing of them makes 
on the minds of beholders cannot be expressed by 
words. Words can bear no natural resemblance, 
like a picture or statue, to the external objects which 
they signify." 

This is a fact of which many writers, as well as 
readers, do not seem to be aware. One wlio lias al- 
ways been deaf cannot enjoy the pleasures of mel- 
ody and harmony ; the blind cannot be initiated into 
the charms of color by words. Equally impossible 
is it for a stranger to acquire, by reading, the ideas 
and feelings which would be poured into his mind 
by the sight of any particular scenes of nature or 
art, such as Mont Blanc, Jungfrau, Lake Geneva, 
the wonders of Rome, Paris, London, or Edinburgh. 
A writer, after having been admitted to these striking 
spectacles, may amuse and entertain tlie minds of 
readers by his glowing and eloquent delineations ; 
but no power of mere words could inspire their souls 
with one of the thoughts or sentiments which the 
actual beholding of them would produce. 

To illustrate my meaning, I will give an instance. 
" On the 24th of September, we had such a sky 
as I have not before seen in Europe — as I never 
saw surpassed in America. Nor do I look for any 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 315 

thing more glorious in Italy. Such splendid trans- 
parency, such serenity, such unfathomable depths of 
ether, such heavens indescribable, seem to me the fit 
clement in which Mont Blanc, fourteen thousand 
seven hundred and fifty feet above the sea, should 
appear, to give the fullest and fittest impression. 
The evening, too, spread the light of a full moon 
upon the mountains ; and here were all objects, — 
snowy peak, bare, sharp pinnacle, rising, a single 
cone, from its base three thousand feet ; the deep 
gorge ; the dark fir grove ; the bristling glacier ; the 
embosomed valley, — every thing of majestic sce- 
nery that could make such a night an appropriate 
close to such a day. Surely no fire from heaven, 
no altars built with hands, could be needed by him 
who came to worship here. It was one of those 
seasons of life when you are silent all the day long, 
and can scarcely sleep at night, from the burden and 
pressure of thoughts that can find neither utterance 
nor repose. Tbc next morning we began our return 
to Geneva. Perhaps it would not be possible that 
any contrasts in light and shade sboiild surpass those 
which were presented in the panorama of moun- 
tains that we left behind us. In the distance lay tbc 
snowy range of Mont Blanc, beneath the dazzliug 
splendors of the morning, and there was brightness ; 
nearer, and on the left, lay mountains covered 
with fir, which the morning ray had not touched, 
and there was darkness ; on the right were hills, 
partly cultivated, partly wooded, on which streamed 
the rich light of early day, and there was beauty." 
To me — for I have seen all the objects here men- 



olG AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

tioned — the above description, thoiigli as good as 
words could make it, is ineffably flat, feeble, frigid, 
and inadequate, it falls so much below the glorious 
reality. To one unacquainted with them it can no 
more convey a true image of the original, than a 
single brick or stone could represent the accurate 
symmetry, the beautiful and sublime proportions, of 
St. Peter's Church at Rome. Whilst in Europe, I 
made notes enough, as to outward and visible things, 
to fill a volume or two. Wlien I reached home, my 
intention was to have them arranged and published. 
But a single incident changed my resolution. I pre- 
pared as good an account as I could make of some 
of the most interesting objects which I saw in cross- 
ing the Alps, accompanied, as it seemed to me, with 
fit and impressive moralizings. I delivered it from 
the pulpit, in my own church. Walking homo with 
one of my warmest friends, a plain, uneducated, but 
sensible and strong-minded mechanic, who had never 
travelled, I asked him how he liked my discourse. 
He said, " that it impressed him as something very 
splendid and well-sounding, but really he could 
gather no definite instruction from it." I felt that 
the criticism was just, and followed its suggestions. 
]\ry descriptions of St. Peter's, St. Paul's, Mont 
Blanc, Snowdon, Arthur's Scat, Menai Bridge, Ab- 
botsford, Oxford, Cambridge, Hampton Court, Wind- 
sor Castle, Shakspcarc's birthplace, &c., will never 
be laid before the public, though in my best judg- 
ment they are not vastly inferior to the common run 
of American literature touching these and similar 
objects of interest which travellers in Europe so 
much admire. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 817 

I reached London on the last Thursday of June. 
I had numerous letters of introduction to distin- 
guished persons, and among them, one to a Unita- 
rian clergyman, who, at the time of my arrival, was 
out of the city. It was left at his residence on Fri- 
day morning ; in the course of the same day, I re- 
ceived a note from his wife, giving me an urgent 
invitation to preach for her husband the next Sun- 
day at eleven o'clock A. M. She observed that Mr. 
T. was not expected home till a late hour on Satur- 
day night, and would be most glad to hear, on his 
arrival, that a brother, fresh from the United States, 
had consented to preach for him. Although I had 
not a single manuscript sermon with mc, nor any 
memoranda adapted to aid memory in the delivery 
of a discourse, I felt it to be a duty to accept the 
invitation. My time was divided between company 
and sight-seeing the whole of Saturday. After din- 
ner, a gentleman of my acquaintance, and formerly 
of New Orleans, walked with me to see "Westminster 
Abbey. By this time, I began to feel no little anxi- 
ety about the engagement I had made for Sunday 
morning. My mind was, to be sure, not inert, but 
so excited and absorbed by the objects and novelties 
on every side, about which I had read and dreamed 
so often from my childhood, that I could think of 
nothing else. As we were about entering the Poets' 
Corner, I remarked to my friend that I had very 
foolisldy promised to speak for a clerical brother 
to-morrow. " I have no sermon in my pocket or head, 
and it is impossible, at this late hour, to prepare one 
suitable to the place, hearers, and occasion." He 
27 * 



318 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

replied, " I should think that the inspiration of this 
memorable spot, these monuments of distinguished 
statesmen, warriors, scholars, and artists of renown, 
would suggest to your mind materials enough for a 
dozen homilies." At this moment, we reached the 
place where stands the statue of Shakspeare, the 
arm of which, extended, seems to point the spectator 
to the following lines : — 

"The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, 
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded. 
Leave not a rack behind." 

" Here is a text for you," remarked my friend. 
The hint struck my mind forcibly, and awakened 
trains of thought, which in the course of a few hours 
were moulded into what seemed to me might possibly 
answer for a sermon, if delivered even with mod- 
erate graces of style and elocution. Forgetting the 
extreme shortness of the nights in that latitude, the 
morning dawn found me walking my room in deep 
study. I did not leave it till the bells rang for 
church. I was conducted to the vestry, where I saw 
for the first time the gentleman whose pulpit I was 
to occupy. After a moment's conversation, he in- 
quired, "Have you forgotten your gown?" "I 
have none," was the answer. No clergyman of any 
denomination ever preaches in England without a 
robe. Several were suspended in a recess of the 
room, of different sizes. - One was selected which I 
could wear. This difficulty being obviated, my cler- 
ical friend asked, " Where is your sermon ? " "I 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 319 

have brought none with mc," was the reply. " Good 
God," he instantly exclaimed, " arc you going be- 
fore a London audience without a written dis- 
course ? " " Sir," said I, " for the last twenty-five 
years it has been my duty to preach regularly to a 
Unitarian congregation in New Orleans, and I have 
never taken a manuscript, nor even a note, into the 
pulpit with me. During all this time, I have not 
written out fully more than two or three sermons ; 
and were they this moment in my hands, it Avould be 
of no avail as to the present emergency. But if you 
have any misgivings as to my competency, I beg you 
to allow me to be disrobed, and excused from preach- 
ing on this occasion. It would be much more agree- 
able to me to take a scat among your hearers." 
This proposition he politely declined, and led my 
way to the pulpit. I was forty-five minutes in de- 
livering my message. The subject selected was from 
these words : " Who hath abolished death, and 
hath brought life and immortality to light through 
the gospel." 

I preached exactly as if I had been addressing my 
own people at home. The thoughts which were 
advanced on the subject of immortality had been 
essentially familiar to my mind for years, and were 
therefore uttered with more case and fluency than 
if they had been read from a manuscript. Most 
preachers are not aware of the great difference be-- 
tween written and oral language. The latter mode 
of communicating ideas is vastly more effective than 
the former. To be sure, in a set, carefully-composed, 
manuscript sermon, a minister may ))e more correct 



320 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

ill his expressions, avoid redundancies and repeti- 
tions, and use words tliat are perfectly appropriate. 
Still, though he may be admired as learned and elo- 
quent, he cannot be so agreeable and persuasive as 
those who in preaching adopt the easy and natural 
manner of an unaffected speaker. 

After the services were finished, my friend was 
pleased to say that he was delighted with my per- 
formances, and that, if it were in his power, he 
would adopt a similar style of preaching. It was 
the first time, he added, that his congregation had 
ever listened to extemporaneous preaching, and 
" they were interested, raised up, and carried along 
with you." One gentleman from New Orleans was 
present, who had often heard me ; he said this ser- 
mon was one of my happiest efforts. I was, indeed, 
much excited. I thought of the antecedent genera- 
tions who had acted their parts in that great metrop- 
olis, and were that moment in a higher, nobler, and 
deathless existei\ce ; and I asked my hearers to look 
out upon the perspective of that better land, and 
tell me whether, in their estimation, the evanescent 
advantages of wealth, rank, and fashion, were the 
brightest things within our reach ; Avhether there 
was not something in our horizon more sublime than 
the attainments of ease, profit, pleasure, or aggran- 
dizement, which could be enjoyed only for a moment. 
And, with what seemed to me affecting views of the 
vanity of human ambition, and the utter worthless- 
ness of merely mortal possessions, when I summed up, 
at the conclusion, all that is sublime and tremendous 
in the prospect of a future destiny, lost in the fath- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 321 

omless abysses of an immortal being, and contrasted 
it with the shadows, the dreams of earth and time, 
my feeHngs bore me away, and tears started from 
the eyes of many persons, whose faces had looked to 
me previously as cold and immovable as marble stat- 
ues. My liearers appeared to be deeply stirred, and 
most of them, as I learned afterwards, were highly 
cultivated, educated gentlemen — savans, artists, and 
authors. 

Travelling through Europe,! met with many intel- 
ligent men, who said they had no faitli in Christian- 
ity. On conversing more freely with them, I ascer- 
tained that it was not the absolute truth taught by 
Jesus which they denied, but only some of those 
numerous follies, which, througli a long course of 
ages, have been assumed, by the benighted and su- 
perstitious, as so many doctrines of Christ and his 
apostles. If the New Testament were properly ex- 
plained and understood, there would hardly be an 
unbeliever in it throughout all Clnnstendom. 

The next day I was invited to dine, with a select 
company, at the house of the clergyman whose pul- 
pit I had occupied Sunday morning. I had hardly 
crossed the threshold of the drawing room before a 
lady rushed forward and grasped me by the hand, 
saying, " I do not wonder that you look astonished 
at what may seem to you an act of rudeness ; but I 
heard you preach in New Orleans some years ago, 
and am most happy to greet you in my native city." 
She had hardly finished her address, before another 
lady came forward and claimed to be an acquaint- 
ance on the same e;round. Then a gentleman, whom 



322 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

I had never seen before, called me by name, saying 
that he was acquainted with scores of my relations 
who resided in the county of Devonshire, where lie 
was born and lived till he came to London. At this 
time I was standing on the vestibule of the room, 
and had not yet had an introduction to the company 
within. This imceremonious, warm, and friendly 
treatment, where I had expected to pass as one un- 
known, moved me even to tears, and I passed through 
that scene with more freedom, cordiality, and happi- 
ness, than I ever before experienced in any social 
circle to which I had been admitted in the United 
States. I love the English. I love their manners, 
character, and society. What an illustrious nation ! 
One fact astonished me, because it was so contrary 
to all my preconceived ideas. A learned, well-bred 
Englishman, blessed with a knowledge both of books 
and the world, is quite as candid, liberal, and un- 
prejudiced, as any gentleman belonging to the higher 
and best informed classes of France or the United 
States. 

While travelling through Great Britain, I heard a 
considerable number of her most celebrated preachers 
of different denominations. It was my good fortune 
to have an opportunity to attend worship one Sab- 
bath in the chapel of Cambridge University, that 
ancient and venerable seat of learning. In the course 
of the day, two sermons were delivered by divines 
of the highest reputation for piety, learning, and elo- 
quence. A gentleman who accompanied me, a native of 
England, and a graduate of one of her universities, 
remarked, at the close of the day, " that in all his life 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 323 

he had never listened to abler discourses." Suppos- 
ing his judgment to be correct, I think it no injustice 
to say that the ordinary style of sermonizing in the 
United States is not at all inferior to that of the 
church of England, either as it regards delivery, 
sound doctrine, literary merit, or the power of mak- 
ing efficient and salutary impressions on the con- 
science. I admit that my expectations were raised 
to the highest pitch, and nothing but superior per- 
formances could have fully answered their de- 
mands. 

I will give a sample of the reasoning that character- 
ized the morning's discourse, which was pronounced 
by a distinguished doctor of divinity, and a man of 
extensive scientific acquirements. This sermon had 
two separate heads, or general divisions. The first 
undertook to specify the cardinal or leading doc- 
trines of the Christian religion. It began with the 
Trinity. The speaker said that one of the strongest 
proof texts in support of the supreme, absolute di- 
vinity of Jesus was the 27th verse of Luke, 11th 
chapter : " And it came to pass, as he spake tlicse 
things, a certain woman of the company lifted up 
her voice, and said unto him. Blessed is the icomb 
that bare thee, and the paps ivhich thou hast svcked." 
The gist of his argument ran thus : At the time 
these words were uttered, it was a settled, universal 
liclief of the Jews, that God was about to appear 
among them in a human form. This form, of course, 
must be born of a woman. Under all the circum- 
stances of the case, in this instance, the calling Mary 
" Blessed,'" &c., was the same precisely as to say, 



324 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

" All hail, mother of our God." Therefore the 
Son of Mary is the second person in the ever-blessed 
and adorable Trinity. This may be sound logic in 
Cambridge University ; it would not satisfy Trinita- 
rians on this side of the Atlantic. 

Next to the trinity of persons in the Godhead, the 
orator expatiated on the time-hallowed doctrine of 
original sin. Under this head the audience was re- 
galed with the richest fragrance of Calvinism. He 
solemnly reminded us that the first sin of Adam and 
Eve, which blasted the immortal bloom and beauty 
of an earthly paradise, was the source of all the ills 
to which man is liable, either here or hereafter. 
Upon this doctrine, he said, rests the superstructure 
of revealed religion. Then were quoted the follow- 
ing beautiful lines of Milton : — 

" So sa5'ing, her rash hand, in evil hour, 
Forth reaching to the fruit, slie phicked, she ate ; 
Earth felt the wound, and Nature, from her seat, 
Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe 
That all was lost." 

"Without the chimerical creations of Dante and Mil- 
ton, what would become of that system of theology 
which accepts the Calvinistic idea of the fall of man ? 
I was surprised to hear tlie bishop assert that the 
physical evils of every description, which now afflict 
mankind, are the necessary, legitimate consequences 
of the original transgression in the garden of Eden. 
He specified sickness, want, pain, the dissolution of the 
body, inclemency of weather, the fading of flowers, 
the suffering and death of brutes, earthquakes and 
volcanoes, the Ijoisterous ocean, the tempestuous 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 325 

wind, thunder and lightning, all violent, destructive 
elements, sterility of soil, briers, thorns, and poison- 
ous reptiles, and laid down the doctrine that all these 
have proceeded from the eating' of the forbidden 
fruit. " If our first parents had not sinned," said 
he, " earth would have been entirely beautiful — an 
Elysian scene, free from all imperfections, inhabit- 
ed by beings pure and deathless as the angels of 
heaven." Alas! alas! that such tempting and dele- 
terious fruit should have been placed within the reach 
of the first man and woman, whose conduct was to 
decide for eternity the fates and fortunes of countless 
millions then unborn ! He summed up this topic by 
saying " that the fall of man was not unforeseen nor 
unprovided for in the arrangements of Infinite Wis- 
dom ; and that without it Jesus and the glories of 
his mediation for a ruined world would have had no 
place in the universe of God." 

When giving his views concerning the Holy Spirit, 
this doctor of theology, with particular emphasis, 
cautioned his hearers against the use of reason in 
interpreting Scripture. " Reason," he told them, 
" is so dreadfully darkened by the fall, that we can- 
not be safely guided by its judgments on the subject 
of religion." What is the use, then, of preaching? 
What is the use of the Bible itself? Is it not ad- 
dressed to the reason of mankind — " the divinity 
that stirs within us"? Scepticism and bigotry are 
not always distinguished by very distant boundaries, 
but in many instances seem to sustain to each other 
the relation of intimate, congenial friends. Both 
concur in assuring us that we have no natural facul- 
28 



326 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 

ties which qualify us for the successful iiiTestigation 
of religious truth. Both affirm that revelation is the 
antagonist of reason, and cannot be believed without 
renouncing the noblest and highest powers which 
God has bestowed upon us. 

Under the second head of his discourse, the posi- 
tion was maintained in the most unqualified terms, 
that the only true church in the world is the ecclesi- 
astical establishment of Great Britain. He said that 
God had smiled upon England, and had raised her 
to her present pinnacle of prosperity, because she 
adhered so faithfully to the only immaculate, genu- 
ine form of Christianity on earth. " The same age," 
he remarked, " that beholds the downfall of our na- 
tional church will also witness the obsequies of our 
secular empire and glory. Our civilization and 
church are inseparably associated." A powerful ar- 
gument, indeed, for the annual disbursement of forty 
millions of dollars from the public treasury, to feed, 
clothe, and enrich the only true successors of the 
apostles ! I was sorry to hear all other denomina- 
tions (even the Roman Catholics were not except- 
ed) expressly named only to be denounced and 
stigmatized as beyond the pale of the Christian 
church, with nothing to depend upon but what was 
styled by the orator " tlie uncovenanted mercies of 
our heavenly Father.''^ The Unitarians came in for 
the most vehement and especial vituperation. They 
were called infidels, who, with ineffable audacity, 
had assumed the Christian name and paraphernalia. 

Tlie above synopsis is a fair representation of the 
staple thoughts contained in the ablest orthodox ser- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 327 

moil which I heard cliunng my rambles in Europe. 
The style as to clearness, purity, and precision of 
language, and the structure of sentences, was fault- 
less ; . not needlessly overcharged with technical 
phrases, nor squeamishly avoiding them when the 
subject required their introduction. The manner of 
this eminent prelate was calm, quiet, dignified, and 
polished, but cold as ice. The true church would 
be shocked by a sermon, however superior in intrin- 
sic merits, delivered hi the ardent, impassioned tones 
and manner suited to the eloquence of nature. Of 
the sincerity of this distinguished preacher I did not 
entertain a doubt ; but he exhibited a sample of big- 
otry whicli it is painful to think of. He said there 
was no power under heaven that could authorize a 
person to become a teacher of Christianity, and an 
administrator of its sacraments, but the hierarchy of 
the Episcopal church ; that if a man should appear 
in England as wise and holy as the Son of God him- 
self, he would have no right to preach, baptize, or ad- 
minister the communion, unless he were ordained by 
some bishop belonging to the national establishment. 
In the English preaching which I heard, there 
were two capital defects. First, it was overshadowed 
and encumbered with the dismal, chilling, imintelli- 
giblo dogmas of an obsolete, antiquated, scholastic 
theology. What interest can this active, enlightened 
generation feel in the metapliysics of St. Augustine 
and Athanasius, touching the mysteries of the God- 
head, original sin, the fall of Adam, supernatural 
conversion, and the unimaginable glories or terrors 
of the world eternal. It is time that clergymen 



328 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

should every where abjure the folly of wasting their 
days and talents in worse than useless efforts to 
fathom the unsearchable, and reconcile contradic- 
tions. What is wanted in Great Britain is a more 
simple, popular, earnest, practical style of pulpit 
communications, showing the important relations of 
the Christian code to the every-day affairs of life — 
to commerce, trade, government, pauperism, litera- 
ture, amusements, ancient usages and customs, and 
all the nameless diversified scenes, pursuits, and in- 
terests of mankind this side the grave. In England 
the Christian minister should have the disinterested- 
ness and moral independence requisite to enable him 
to set his face resolutely against all those principles 
and practices which he considers, in his inmost soul, 
contrary to sound morals and undefiled religion, 
however popular, prevailing, or fashionable they 
may happen to be. 

Again, the English pulpit is lamentably deficient 
in fervor and pathos, in all those qualities necessary 
to arouse and kindle the passions. The sacred desk 
should every where, like that of England, possess 
large and various knowledge, correctness of taste, 
fertility of illustration, a clear and copious flow of 
words ; but these will be of no avail, unless it deep- 
ly sympathize with all those natural forms of beauty, 
truth, and goodness, Avhicli strike, charm, and capti- 
vate the great heart of humanity. The business of a 
preacher is not so much to convince the understand- 
ing of his hearers, as to persuade their wills — to 
communicate to their hearts rapture at the morally 
beautiful, joy in the true, exultation in the pure 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 329 

and good — those far-reaching sympathies and sub- 
lime sentiments wliich proclaim our origin divine, 
and our destination immortal. 

During the last week of June, 1847, I enjoyed 
several fine opportunities of listening to the best 
speakers in the Parliament of Great Britain. I 
heard Lord Brougham, Sir George Bentinck, Lord 
John Russell, Lord Morpeth, Mr. Disraeh, Mr. 
Hume, and many others. I will here record a few 
paragraphs from a note book containing an account 
of my daily experiences at that time. 

When I first cast my eyes on this far-famed assem- 
bly, the personal appearance of its members made a 
deep and quite agreeable impression. Their mien in 
general is imposing, and highly expressive of the 
wisdom and refinement which should adorn the rep- 
resentatives of an ancient, powerful, and splendid 
nation. English gentlemen present the most perfect 
model extant, as it regards the proprieties of man- 
ner, costume, and external bearing. Horace some- 
where remarks, that a man of great intellectual abil- 
ities, but of forbidding, uncultivated manners, may 
be compared to a field possessing a rich soil, yet 
untilled, its surface rough with weeds, briers, and 
tliorns. True it is, that a legislator of clownish ap- 
pearance, slovenly in dress, who mixes the spirting 
of tobacco juice with the finest sentences which fall 
from his lips, may be a man of great worth and 
genuine patriotism. 

The most distinguished talents may be concealed 
beneath his unpolished exterior. But a moderate 
share of gentility would not only render him more 
28* 



330 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

agreeable to our perceptions, but also make an im- 
portant addition to his weight and influence in the 
scale of usefulness. I regret that my countrymen, 
when travelling in foreign lands, sometimes act as if 
they thought it would involve a sacrifice of personal 
freedom and independence to observe the decorum 
of time, place, and circumstance, in their intercourse 
with others. To avoid the least approach to servility 
on some occasions, they rush into the opposite ex- 
treme of rudeness, and gross disregard of conven- 
tional rules and customs, which have an imperative 
claim to our notice, when they do not conflict with 
the requirements of morality. For reasons which I 
cannot now examine, the people in the southern parts 
of our Union are more mild, gentle, refined, and obU- 
ging in their manners, not only at home, but abroad, 
as a general fact, than the inhabitants of the free 
states, Boston and our other large cities excepted. 

The members of Parliament, as far as I could 
judge, possess the advantage of a finished education. 
At any rate, those who spoke when I was present 
appeared to be perfectly accpiaintcd with the busi- 
ness that was going on, never wandered from the 
main point, and advanced only the most apjjropriatc 
facts and arguments tending to elucidate the subject 
upon which they were deliberating. Long-winded, 
rambling orators are never tolerated in the English 
legislature. They arc put down by concerted noises, 
such as coughing, stamping with the feet, &c. 
Hence no one attempts to speak on a subject of 
which he is ignorant ; but only when he is provided 
with an ample stock of materials, that have been 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 331 

thoroughly digested and lucidly arranged. Indeed, 
the condensation of the speakers in Parliament, their 
close, rigid attention to the business before them, 
and the beautiful appropriateness of their language 
were so striking, that on one occasion I listened, with 
an almost unvaried interest, to a series of speeches on 
different topics, but mostly of a local character, which 
were protracted from seven o'clock P. M. till near two 
the next morning. And I remarked that in those 
replies, which must have been strictly extemporane- 
ous, the prominent characteristics were relevance, 
distinctness, brevity, and wit. Their coruscations 
of wit were often vivid and irresistible, but always 
polished and good natured. In a legislator, knowl- 
edge is power ; and the more copious the fund of his 
intelligence, the more efficient will be his oratory. 
When a speaker is full of important, connected facts 
and arguments touching a given subject, his address 
may be forcible and persuasive, without the graces 
of a pleasing voice and elocution. Good sense is the 
foundation of every species of eloquence, and it can- 
not be compressed into too small a compass". I have 
heard a fluent speaker in our Congress, for an hour 
or two, pouring forth liis loose, vague, indistinct, 
cloudy abstractions, when the most attentive and 
enlightened listener could gain no clear, definite 
conceptions from his pompous, frothy declamation. 
Such a phenomenon is unknown in the legislature I 
am speaking of. 

In Parliament, as I saw it, there was one charac- 
teristic to me alike surprising and inexj)licable. I 
allude to the invariable deficiency of feeling, the ap- 



332 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

parent apathy which distinguished their greatest ora- 
tors, even when expatiating on topics fitted to arouse 
the strongest emotions. I should have inferred from 
their style of speaking that the predominant trait of 
their minds was stoicism — a calmness of soul as 
incapable of pain, pleasure, or passion of any kind, 
as a block of marl)le. In both houses of the Eng- 
lish legislature there is the finest scope for the most 
animated species of eloquence ; for that ardor of 
speech, that vehemence and nobleness of sentiment, 
which can proceed only from a mind enriched by the 
elements of science and learning and inspired hy 
some great and magnificent theme. One night, al- 
most every word that was uttered related to the 
passage of a bill that had been introduced primarily 
to afford relief to the starving poor of Ireland. In 
the House of Commons the matter underwent a 
thorough and lengthened discussion. And all the 
time, to the eye of a spectator, that assembly was 
still as the Dead Sea. Not a ripple disturbed its 
glassy, polished surface. Yes, living, breathing men, 
in the attitude of communicating their ideas on a 
theme of all others, perhaps, most likely to excite 
the human mind, were, to appearance, as passionless 
as those portraits which transmit to us the forms 
and features of orators that are now no more. I 
could not but feel the striking difference between the 
scene before me and the meeting which was held 
the winter previous in the Commercial Exchange, 
New Orleans, to devise measures for the relief of suf- 
fering Ireland. At that meeting the two most promi- 
nent orators were the late Hon. Henry Clay and 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 333 

S. S. Prentiss, Esq. In the course of their remarks 
they were so deeply affected as to shed tears, and 
there was a mutual sympathy between the orators 
and the audience. We who listened were stirred 
and carried along with them. Our hearts wept in 
view of the miseries which they painted. It was 
enough for us to know that thousands on the other 
side of the Atlantic, united to us by the ties of a 
common nature, were perishing for want of food. 
Prompted by those generous sentiments which make 
the wants and sorrows of others, however distant, 
our own, we loaded vessels with the requisite sup- 
plies, and sent them relief with all possible despatch. 
But let me not do injustice to the distinguished 
men of whom I have been speaking. I most fully 
believe that the apathy to which I have alluded was 
not real, but only apparent. They cherished in their 
bosoms the appropriate emotions, but fashion, or 
something else, forbade the manifestation of them. 
I was told that they would have exposed themselves 
to ridicule by speaking in that pathetic, vehement 
tone which is suited to the American taste. It gives 
mo pleasure to testify that the orators, on the even- 
ing before mentioned, with one or two exceptions, 
admitted the sacred claims of Ireland to English phi- 
lanthropy. " Ireland," said they, " is not only vis- 
ited by the judgments of Heaven, (alluding to the 
himine,) but it is also crushed by the misrule and 
()])pression inflicted by the English government for 
centuries past. We must help her; we will not 
allow her to perish." One of the members stated, 
that during that session of Parliament, (1847,) eight 



334 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

millions of pounds sterling had been already appro- 
priated to the relief of the neighboring island, and 
" now this bill," said he, " calls on us to give for the 
same object nearly another million. I shall vote for 
it." Neither the American heart, nor the French 
heart, nor any other human heart, is in reality 
more noble, more humane, more generous, or phil- 
anthropic, than that of those very orators whoso im- 
perturbable calmness of countenance and manners 
might lead a stranger to suppose that they wxrc 
given over to the insensibility of utter, obdurate, in- 
vincible selfishness, and indifference to the misery of 
their fellow-beings. Indeed, the almost boundless 
charities of the English to relieve every species of 
want and suffering among them, demonstrate the 
vitality of their religious principles, and that they are 
quite equal, if not superior, to any other nation in 
recognition of the claims of our common humanity. 
The opinion prevails in the United States, that 
piety is at a very low ebb in the church of England. 
This is an error. That church is not inferior to any 
other on earth in fulfilling God's command to do 
good to all men, without distinction ; in toiling and 
suffering for the cause of human progress ; in diffus- 
ing freedom, virtue, and intelligence ; in relieving 
the poor; in succoring the fallen, the orphan, and 
the widow ; in breaking the yoke of the enslaved 
and down-trodden ; in sending the Bible all over the 
globe ; and in redeeming our misguided, unhappy 
race from the countless forms of sin and woo. The 
chm-ch of Oxford, and Eomc too, are not below their 
neighbors in genuine holiness ; they comprehend 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 335 

within their limits millions, who, according to the 
measure of their knowledge and means, are sin- 
cerely striving to be conformed to the will of the 
common Father of us all, and obey the precepts of 
his Son. Some seem to think that when an assembly 
worships with harmonics of splendid music, fumes 
of incense, ancient liturgies, and a gorgeous ceremo- 
nial, it cannot be pure and holy in the sight of God. 
But they who look below the surface which the 
church militant presents to a superficial eye, and 
who are not bewildered by the din and confusion of 
conflicting sects, creeds, and diversities of forms, 
know that men who differ ever so much in opinions 
and rites may nevertheless feel in their hearts as 
becomes Christians, and gaze with admiration, grati- 
tude, and hope, on the divine and benignant image 
of that Redeemer who has tasted death for every 
member of Adam's race. 

Some one has said, our minds are steeped in im- 
agery, and where the visible form is not, the impal- 
pable spirit escapes the notice of an ignorant, unre- 
flecting multitude. Cuvier could trace the sublime 
unity, the universal type, the central idea, existing in 
the creative intelligence, which connects as one the 
mammoth and the snail. So profound Catholic ob- 
servers can perceive the holy unity that pervades 
all those of every name and denomination, who 
" confess with their lips the Lord Jesus, and believe 
in their hearts that God hath raised him from the 
dead." As to church organization and forms, to be 
sure I have my preferences, and indulge them ; but 
I should be chars-cable with one of the most dcbasino- 



380 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

forms of bigotry, if I thought that one denomination 
was any more acceptable to God than anotlier. 
Whoever worships the Fatlier with sincerity of in- 
tention will be blessed, though he kneel before the 
altar with a mind darkened with vidgar superstitions, 
unfounded fears, narrow prejudices, and vain imagin- 
ings. The different sects in Christendom have no 
just reason to look upon one another with unfriend- 
liness, antipathy, and discord. " I admire," says 
Dr. Channing, " the venerable names of Thomas a 
Kempis, Fenelon, and Cheverus, of the Romish 
church ; I admire the names of Latimer, Hooker, 
Barrow, Heber, Milton, Newton, John Locke, and 
Samuel Clark. They breathe a fragrance through 
the common air ; they lift up the whole race to which 
they belonged towards the illimitable heavens. With 
the churches of which they were pillars and chief 
ornaments I have the warmest sympathies. To con- 
fine God's love, or his good spirit, to any sect, party, 
or particular church, is to sin against the fundamen- 
tal law of the kingdom of God, to break that living 
bond with Christ's universal church, which is one of 
our most important helps to perfection." 

When I was in St. Peter's Church, Rome, on a 
beautiful Sunday morning in July, 1847, the Lord's 
Prayer, in Latin, was repeated by the priest who Avas 
officiating at one of the altars. Nothing which I 
ever heard uttered in a church affected me more 
deeply. "Our Father," <fcc., — that is the Father 
of all. These words inspired me w^th the thouglit 
that mankind are indeed one, — one in origin, in 
birth, in life, in love, in sulTering, in death, — one, 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 337 

too, ill hope of that inheritance incorruptible, uncle- 
filed, and unfading, through Christ, reserved in 
heaven for all the countless millions of woman born. 
The love of which tlie cross is the emblem is as un- 
circumscribed as that of the Lord's prayer. It ena- 
bles us to look beyond the shadows and sorrows of 
mortality, to a future existence of endless and ever- 
progressive glory, in which all mankind will event- 
ually participate. " Uniformity of creeds, of disci- 
pline, of ritual, and of ceremonies, in such a world 
as ours ! a world where no two men are not as dis- 
tinguishable in their mental as in their physical 
aspect ; where all that meets the eye, and all that 
arrests the ear, has the stamp of boundless and infi- 
nite variety ! What are the harmonies of tone, of 
color, and of form, but the results of contrasts — 
contrasts held in subordination to one pervading 
principle, which reconciles, without confounding, the 
component elements of the music, the painting, or 
the structure ? Just so in the spiritual works of 
God : beauty could have no existence without endless 
diversities." The human constitution is so organized, 
that honest men, however enlightened, are compelled 
to form dissimilar views of divine truth as long as 
they live in the body. Honest men can no more 
think alike than they can look alike. Truth is God's 
law, indeed ; but if all will profess to think exactly 
alike about it, all must be hypocrites, and live a life 
of habitual falsehood. How cold, dull, deformed, 
uninteresting, even hateful, would be a community 
in which there was no difference of opinion on moral 
and religious themes ! There are no more nor other 
29 



338 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

forms of Christianity among men than are wanted. 
Their existence demonstrates their necessity. Nor 
has any particular form a right to arrogate to itself 
precedence or superiority over their neighbors. 

I can enjoy the communion of any church where 
the Lord's Prayer is understood and sincerely 
adopted ; where the worshippers are taught to believe 
that God is not almighty wrath, but an infinite Par- 
ent, who introduced them into this world without 
their consent, and has watched over them in all their 
past vicissitudes of sickness and health, joy and sor- 
row, and who will continue to take care of them — 
be the friend, strength, and portion of their spirits 
through the serene, unclouded, eternal processions 
of a heavenly state. I feel at home in any church 
where I see a banner floating aloft above its dome, on 
which is inscribed the motto, God our Father, Man 
OUR Brother, Jesus Christ our Redeemer. 

I went into churches of every denomination when 
travelling in Europe, from the Roman Catholic to 
the Unitarian, was permitted to commune in all, and 
felt that the " Holy of Holies " was in each of those 
communions ; that in each were humble, sincere, 
thankful Christians, bearing faithfully the trials of 
their lot, forgiving their bitterest enemies, shedding 
the tear of sympathy at the sight of a neighbor's 
suffering, toiling with disinterestedness to relieve it, 
and transported by a hope in Christ triumphant 
over time, nature, death, and the grave. Religion 
is flourishing all over Europe, not excepting Ger- 
many. Things may appear the reverse to superficial 
observers. Since Christ expired on the cross, his 
cause has been progressing every hour. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 339 

We sometimes feel inclined to despondency, when 
we see scepticism in the pulpit, or the professor's cliair, 
or in the circulating literature of our times. But 
we forget that by these very means the glorious 
cause of revealed religion is carried forward. Look 
through the annals and eras of the past, and behold 
when the church seemed to human view to be de- 
livered completely into the hands of its enemies, it 
was only undergoing a transition to a higher and 
more brilliant state. When Jesus was laid in the 
tomb, to mortal eye annihilated, then was the most 
signal triumph of the cross. No events can retard 
or retrograde the advancement of God's truth. If 
the Bible is divine, no real adversity can befall the 
church. Tlie church can no more fail, nor be re- 
tarded, than the eternal Cause that breathed it into 
existence. All storms, all waves that beat upon it, 
all the wrath and opposition of men, are the instru- 
mentalities which Providence uses to promote its 
dcvclo[)mcnt and prosperity. 

I was very anxious not only to see, but to converse 
with some of the most celebrated scholars and au- 
thors of Great Britain. Mr. Bancroft, the historian, 
who was then oar ambassador at the court of St. 
James, afforded me all the attention and civilities in 
liis power. I was especially desirous to become per- 
sonally acquainted with Thomas Carlyle. Mr. Ban- 
croft told me that it would be impossible for me to 
obtain an introduction to him except at one of his 
evening levees, because he spent every morning in 
bis study, and received no visitors until after dinner. 
" But these levees are always crowded," said he. 



340 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

" and allow no opportunities for extended conver- 
sation." As he had called my countrymen a nation 
of bores, I concluded to assume the character and 
impudence which the term designates. Mr. Carlyle 
resided two miles from Morley's Hotel, where I had 
lodgings. I was told that his breakfast hour was 
eight o'clock. I found my way to his dwelling one 
morning, when the clock was striking nine, with let- 
ters from distinguished men on both sides of the 
Atlantic. A lady, with a very intelligent appearance, 
met me at the door. I said to her, " I have called 
this morning to see Mr. Carlyle : is he at home ? " 
She replied, " Mr. Carlyle has just entered his study, 
and no gentleman can see him this morning. If the 
Queen of England should now call here and request 
an interview with him, it would not be granted." I 
then asked her if she could oblige me by carrying a 
written message to his study. " With pleasure," 
said she. I sat down and wrote with a pencil the 
following words. " Dear sir : No gentleman, but a 
man, is at your door, — a Unitarian, a Yankee, a dem- 
ocrat, and a radical, all the way from the banks of the 
Mississijipi ; a careful reader and great admirer of 
Mr. Carlylo, — and begs the favor of a short interview, 
which must be granted nom, or never this side the 
grave." I sent my letters along with this scrawl. 
Directly the invitation came : " Walk up, sir ; I shall 
be happy to see you." 

I was received in the most kind and unceremoni- 
ous manner. The topics on which we conversed 
were so numerous that I have not room even to 
mention them. The colloquial style of this gentle- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 341 

man is plain, easy, natural, and unaffected, and 
bears no resemblance to that of his later writings ; 
has none of those qualities commonly called tran- 
scendental. Our conversation was protracted till 
afternoon. Though I rose several times to depart, 
he insisted upon my staying longer so earnestly, that 
I acceded to his wishes. Much of the time Avas 
spent in answering his inquiries concerning the sta- 
tistics of the United States, the peculiarities of our 
government, laws, manners, schools, churches, litera- 
ture, &c. He professed to be much gratified with the 
information which I gave him in regard to these sub- 
jects. He was very particular in his questions about 
slavery, and the narratives of the terrible sufferings 
to which African bondmen are habitually subjected 
in our country. The real facts appertaining to the 
case, as I stated them, were in direct antagonism to 
all the representations of anti-slavery writers and 
orators which he had seen. He was rejoiced to hear 
that the slaves in our Southern States were well fed 
and clothed, not over-worked, and mercifully treated 
in all respects. I told him that they were quite as 
well off, both as to their temporal and spiritual in- 
terests, as any class of operatives, either in the field 
or shop, that existed in Great Britain or any part of 
continental Europe. 

He then uttered words nearly as follows : " From 
what you say, — and I cannot doubt the correctness 
of your statements, — it seems that slavery, as it exists 
in your republic, is a subject enveloped in the thick 
mists of ignorance, prejudice, and misrepresentation. 
It is indeed true that not more than fifty years ago our 
29 * 



342 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

own merchants were employed in transporting native 
Africans to your shores for sale. It is true that 
Great Britain originated the system when you were 
colonies, under her influence and jurisdiction. At 
the same time the ships of New England were de- 
voted to the odious traffic. The Southern States 
were never engaged in the slave trade. To he sure, 
they purchased the captives whom we sent to them, 
because they were exactly fitted by nature for the 
climate, and because they believed, as every body 
then did, in the entire rectitude of such exchanges. 
I understand what you say — that southern planters 
cannot possibly manumit their slaves immediately 
without involving them in ntter perdition. It is 
their duty to keep them in bondage for the present, 
till it please Providence to open a way for their exal- 
tation to a higher state. The blame of African 
bondage in your land, if blame there be, belongs 
chiefly to us. We set up the institution among you 
by the force of law, even against your desire and 
earnest remonstrances. And we are doing all in our 
power to foster and perpetuate it. We live by slave 
labor. What feeds our immense cotton manufacto- 
ries ? Destroy them, and we should be ruined. All 
those communities that use the cotton, rice, sugar, 
coffee, etc., produced by slave labor, arc just as mucli 
implicated in the wrong as slaveholders themselves, 
and just as criminal in the sight of God. In tlie 
guilt of slavery, as things are, the whole civilized 
world participates. How unjust, then, the reproaches 
and vituperation poured out upon you, for a state of 
things which was forced upon you by an inevital)le 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 343 

providence, and the cancelling of which is out of 
your power ! The principle, I admit, is wrong ; 
' but let him who is without sin cast the first stone.' 
It is idle, it is worse than idle, for one to indulge in 
acrimonious declamation against African slavery in 
the United States, who is unable to specify any feasi- 
ble method of abolishing it." 

Such was the strain in which this far-seeing, just, 
and noble man expressed ideas touching slavery, 
which must appear true and beautiful, I should think, 
to every candid, impartial, and enlightened mind. 
And all the anti-slavery men with whom I conversed 
in England, spoke on the same subject in the accents 
of a calm, gentle, humane, profound, and considerate 
philosophy. They are free from that spirit of harsh- 
ness, invective, and denunciation, which character- 
ize, almost invariably, the effusions of American ab- 
olitionists. 

We have few literary men, who, in depth, com- 
pass, dnd variety of learning, can be compared with 
such' scholars as Macaulay, Martineau, Beard, Car- 
lyle, and many others of the same description. In 
my judgment, Ralph Waldo Emerson has as much 
acquaintance with literature, and is as great a 
thinker, as any person in Europe. The Hon. Ed- 
ward Everett, and Mr. Bancroft, the historian, be- 
long to the same category. Outside of the circle of 
my acquaintance are scores, perhaps, of educated 
Americans, who are entitled to be placed upon the 
same platform with the distinguished men just 
named. But as a general fact, our scholars and 
professional men are sadly deficient in culture. The 



344 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

clergymen whom I saw in England do not confine 
themselves to the study of theology, but are con- 
versant in every department of learning. They are 
not so showy as a certain class of ministers in the 
United States. They have not the same knack of 
dressing up trite and commonplace thoughts witli 
those ornaments of style which are most fitted to 
attract the gaze of an ignorant, unreflecting crowd. 
But they are more solid, lay more stress upon their 
matter than manner, and prefer the plain, simple, 
manly, and strong, to the empty, foppish, gaudy, and 
superficial. American literature is too often diluted, 
unoriginal, adapted to secure the ephemeral apj)lause 
of the day, rather than to command lasting and uni- 
versal admiration. 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 345 



CHAPTER XIY. 

SOME FURTHER PARTICULARS WITH REGARD TO MY IN- 
TERVIEW WITH MR. CARLYLE. ERRONEOUS IMPRES- 
SIONS PREVALENT AMONG THE WISE MEN OP EUROPE 
CONCERNING THE UNITED STATES. — THE ALPS. 

The news of Dr. Chalmers's death, the great divine 
of Scotland, had just been received. Reference was 
made to the ojjinion expressed in his Bridgewater 
Treatise, that all which we call evil is phenomenal 
only — the necessary means of something in itself 
good ; or, as R. W. Emerson has expressed it, " Evil 
is good in the process of formation — good in em- 
bryo, in incubation." " Dr. Chalmers," said Mr. 
Carlyle, " was as good as he was great. His heart 
was expanded, and in conversation he often uttered 
sentiments which are directly at variance with the 
dogmas of the church to which he belonged. I en- 
joy an extended personal acquaintance with minis- 
ters of various denominations in England and Scot- 
land. Neither in nor out of the pulpit have I ever 
heard one argue in favor of the doctrine of endless 
evil. I am satisfied that no intelligent clergyman 
among us embraces it. It is a melancholy fact, that 
until the present century, a great majority of pro- 
fessedly Christian teachers represented the Almighty 
Being as decreeing and delighting in human misery. 
How inexplicable that educated men, closing their 
eyes against the irresistible evidence of unbounded 



346 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

goodness and power in the natural world around 
and within them, should make themselves believe 
that final, hopeless, remediless misery is the grand, 
sublime consummation of the Creator's moral achieve- 
ments ! The horrid doctrine is not to be found in 
the New Testament. There is no intimation given, 
in any part of the Scriptures, of a doom so inscru- 
table, and so repugnant to those inevitable ideas 
which we all entertain of the divine perfections. It 
is certain that the Greek word aionios, which is 
sometimes applied to punishment in the gospel, does 
not prove its eternity. For througliout Greek litera- 
ture, sacred and profane, it is often employed to 
signify a limited duration." 

When speaking about the Athanasian creed, he 
remarked, " The doctrine of three persons in the 
Godhead had no existence in the primitive church 
till after the Council of Nice. The question of de- 
Ijate at that meeting did not relate to the equality 
of the Son with the Father. This idea was not then 
advocated by any divine in Christendom. It was 
universally admitted that Jesus was inferior to God 
himself The subject of discussion in that far-famed 
assembly amounted to this : Was the Son formed 
out of the very substance of the supreme Jehovah, 
or was his spiritual nature essentially the same as 
that of angels, or that of Adam before he had 
sinned ? This was a thesis sufficiently subtile and 
absurd, to be sure, but it was infinitely removed 
from the Athanasian theory concerning the God- 
head." 

The last thing published by Dr. Chalmers, Init a 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 347 

few days before his decease, was a letter in which he 
expressed his opinion, that tlic Christian religion 
cannot be permanently prosperous in any country, 
without the support of legislative enactment. " Con- 
versing on this subject," he said, " it was remarked 
by an intelligent American whom he had met in 
London, that more persons, in proportion, resort to 
some place for religious worship every Sabbath, in 
our republic, than in any other civilized land on tlie 
face of the globe. A little band of pioneers go into 
the wilderness to subdue it — to spread around them 
green pastures, cultivated fields, blooming gardens 
and orchards, with all the charms and luxuries tliat 
follow in their train. They build their cabins, and 
begin to fell the trees. Almost at the same instant 
the log school house and church spring into exist- 
ence." He subjoined these words : " It would, no 
doubt, be best that church and state should every 
where be completely divorced. Men in all grades 
and conditions of life, barbarous and civilized, have 
their gods to whom they flee for help in their hours 
of weakness, peril, or suffering. If unacquainted 
with the God of the Bible, they will carve out an 
idol, an image of brass, marble, or some other sub- 
stance, and repair to its altar for protection. Some 
repose their confidence in the sun, the moon, or 
stars ; in beast, bird, tree, reptile, or insect. Thus, 
through every land, from every temple and altar, 
from every bleeding victim, and from every prayer, 
a voice proclaims that every man, however vague or 
erring his notions of spiritual truth may be, must 
betake himself to some real or imaginary divinity in 



348 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

scenes of weakness, change, sorrow, disease, and 
death. Worship, then, is enforced upon the children 
of men by inevitable laws. 

" It is the dictate of our nature. The principles of 
of piety are deeply founded in the human mind. It 
is no less essential to us than to possess the attri- 
butes of speech and reason. The most sceptical and 
misanthropic person must trust in something supe- 
rior to himself ; and that object of trust is to him 
divine. The influences best calculated to refine and 
moralize mankind are education, domestic training, 
parental example, literature, the customs and fash- 
ions of society, and the Sabbath, with all its beauti- 
ful, hallowed ceremonies. Mere arbitrary law is an 
odious thing in the sight of all the world. The mass 
of any people will therefore look with suspicion and 
dislike upon a church which is identified with the 
civil government. The voluntary system is vastly 
preferable to any of those that recognize the recti- 
tude and expediency of coercion in matters of faith. 
It is just as absurd to vote that men shall be religious 
at all, or in any particular way, as to vote that they 
shall be initiated into tlie science of fluxions, mathe- 
matics, or natural philosophy." 

Mr. Carlyle, speaking of modern poetry, said that, 
" although Wordsworth was not so popular, so gener- 
ally read and admired as many of his contemporaries, 
yet he ascended to the highest grounds ever occu- 
pied by poetic genius. In his writings are sounded 
some of the noblest strains of poetry recorded in 
ancient or modern literature. No author is more 
original, happy, and delicate in the use of metaphors 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 849 

and comparisons." Several instances were quoted, 
one of wliicli seemed to me so transcendently noble, 
that I will give it a place here. Wordsworth de- 
scribes the tendency of human life to beautify man's 
nature in the following lines : — 

" As the ample moon, 
In the deep stillness of a summer even. 
Kising behind a thick and lofty grove. 
Burns, like an unconsuming fire of light. 
In the green trees ; and kindling on all sides 
Their leafy umbrage, turns the dusky veil 
Into a substance glorious as her owii ; 
Yea, with her own incorporate, by power 
Capacious and serene, — like power abides 
In man's celestial spirit ; Virtue thus 
Sets forth and magnifies herself; thus feeds 
A calm, a beautiful, and silent fire. 
From the encumbrances of mortal life. 
From even disappointment — nay, from guilt; 
And sometimes, so relenting Justice wills. 
From palpable oppressions of despair." 

The philosophy contained in these words came 
from the Bible. It is the great, immutable truth often 
expatiated upon by the sacred writers, that all events 
are made to subserve the march of knowledge and 
happiness ; that by all which happens through the 
years, ages, centuries, and cycles of time, tliat by 
all the ordinances, appointments, fates, vicissitudes, 
sins, and sufferings of our earthly allotments, only 
great, everlasting, and beneficent results arc accom- 
plished. 

" Respecting man, whatever wTong we call 
May, must be right, as relative to all." 

Or, to use the ideas of Emerson, in his profound 
work, " Representative 3Ien,''^ " That pure maligni- 
30 



850 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

ty can exist, is the extreme proposition of nnbelief. 
It is not to be entertained by a rational agent ; it is 
atheism ; it is the last profanation. 

' Goodness and being in the gods are one ; 
He who imputes ill to them makes them none.' 

To what a painful perversion has that theology ar- 
rived which admits no conversion for evil men here- 
after ! But the influence of the Holy Spirit is never 
relaxed ; the power of the sun will convert carrion 
itself into grass and flowers ; and man, though now 
in dungeons, or jails, or on gibbets, is in a state of 
preparation for all the beauty and bliss of which he 
is capable. Atheism is not so dreadful as that vin- 
dictive theology which peoples an Inferno with devils 
utterly depraved and incorrigible. Every thing is 
superficial, and perishes, but love and truth only. 
The largest is always the truest sentiment. Every 
man can exclaim, — 

' Immortality o'erswecps 
All pains, all tears, all sins, all fears, 
And peals like the eternal tliimdcrs of the deep 
Into my ears this truth — Thou liv'st forever.' " 

The most painful sight which I saw in England 
was the great inequalities which mark the different 
classes of society. The established church is pro- 
verbially rich. Wealth in itself should never be re- 
garded as an evil, either as it respects individuals or 
communities. The ministers of religion cannot be 
too opulent, provided they make a beneficent use of 
their means. In this instance the evil arises from a 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 351 

most unrighteous distribution of the funds appropri- 
ated for the support of religion. The bishops liave 
princely incomes. The inferior clergy, who do all 
the preaching and parochial labor, are in the main 
very poor, and sometimes straitened for the neces- 
saries of life. If the annual disbursements of the 
English government on behalf of Christianity were 
divided equally among its ministers, each man would 
receive only about five hundred dollars a year, which 
is not larger than the average salary paid to clergy- 
men in the United States. It appears hard that tbe 
dissenters should be compelled to contribute towards 
the maintenance of the establishment, besides sup- 
porting their own institutions. It seems to be the 
most flagrant injustice and iniquity that six or seven 
thousand persons — the younger sons of noblemen — 
should receive their livings from the chiirch funds, 
who never perform clerical duties. They hold their 
stations as benefices, or sinecures. Besides, they arc 
often openly, desperately depraved and dissolute. 

Here I would remark that the opinion most prevalent 
in this country concerning the character of the Eng- 
lish bishops is altogether erroneous. When will men 
learn to do justice to their fellow-beings ? Although 
these prelates have large revenues, and are surround- 
ed with a temporal splendor, which, in the eyes of a 
plain democrat from this western world, may ap- 
pear utterly irreconcilable with the character of a 
gospel minister, as described by Paul in his Epistles 
to Timothy and Titus, yet for the most part they are 
humble, self-denying, noble men, worthy to be con- 
sidered as the successors of the apostles. To be sure, 



852 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

some melancholy exceptions might be mentioned ; but 
bad men arc found in every hierarchy under heaven. 
I admire and honor the English church, that during 
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and that 
portion of the nineteenth already elapsed, has stood 
forth like an impregnable fortress against the assaults 
of infidelity, a spiritual promontory, on which the 
storms and waves of opposition have expended their 
fury in vain. Ever since we ceased to be colonies, 
some dissenters among us have cherished the most 
bitter and unfounded prejudices against Episcopacy. 
No church in this republic is more useful or glorious. 
It is a haven of repose, whither the calm, intelligent, 
and refined of all the dissenting denominations may 
repair, and find a refuge, after having been tossed, 
perhaps for years, on the boisterous sea of theologi- 
cal strife. Not a minister of this denomination has 
ever been known to pervert the gospel by making his 
pulpit the arena of political huckstering, forgetting 
the fundamental precepts of Christ — the merciful 
designs and charitable spirit of his mission — to deal 
out falsehoods, bitterness, and vituperation, instead of 
the gospel, to subserve the vilest purposes of unscru- 
pulous ambition and depravity. 

The American traveller in England, I have before 
said, is continually pained with those disparities of 
condition and marked contrasts which arise from an 
aristocracy established by law from entailed estates 
and hereditary titles to honor and power. The 
whole west end of London shows like a city of the 
gods ; St. Giles, Wapping, and other sections are 
filled with squalor and the cxtrcmcst wretchedness, 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. Sbo 

whose inhabitants seem more like devils than human 
beings. In these districts, I was told that children 
grow up not only crushed and blighted by destitu- 
tion, but taught to believe that lying, theft, licen- 
tiousness, and kindred vices are right and honorable. 
Are they to blame, then, if they put on terrific attri- 
butes, bid defiance to morality, or even imbrue their 
hands in blood ? They know no better. They arc 
not to blame, but the society is which tolerates such 
a state of pauperism and ignorance. In London 
there are thirty thousand persons, perhaps, or more, 
who live in all the luxuries and magnificence which 
their imagination can devise, and there are quite as 
many who know not when they rise in the morning 
where they shall lay their heads at night. 

When in Liverpool, I went one morning to visit an 
extensive park, more than twenty miles in circum- 
ference. In it were lawns smoothly shaven, avenues 
of majestic trees, and gardens presenting every va- 
riety of vegetable beauty. It was a perfect paradise. 
The stately mansion of its owner, through long 
ranges of splendid apartments, is filled with the 
works of art and the creations of luxury, with paint- 
ings and statues, with silken couches, gorgeous fur- 
niture, and costly libraries, exhibiting a scene of 
magnificence hardly surpassed by the grandeurs rep- 
resented in the pages of Arabian romance. Througlu 
out England, travelling in any direction, every few 
miles you come across these magnificent domains 
belonging to the aristocracy. Indeed, they own 
nearly all the land in Great Britain. Consequently 
the surface of England presents scenes of splendor, 
30* 



354 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

which makes the stranger feel as if he ■were journey- 
ing through some fairy land. 

In Enghmd, about thirty-two thousand persons 
out of a population of thirty-two millions, possess 
aristocratic wealth and honors. Eight or ten mil- 
lions own the entire property of Great Britain, Loth 
real and personal. The remaining twenty-four 
millions are paupers, doomed to severe, unintcrmit- 
tcd, crushing toil through life, in order to obtain a 
bare subsistence. From infancy their food is of the 
poorest kind, and insufficient in quantity. Millions 
of them feel the pain of unsatisfied hunger perhaps 
every moment during their waking hours. They 
are half clothed ; and cold, wet weather is to them a 
scene of constant suffering. They cannot read or 
write, and are cut off from the endearments, joys, 
and blessings of domestic life. Their domicile is a 
hedge or a hovel. In mind they are inert, stupid, 
and mean beyond any specimens of humanity that 
have fallen under my observation elsewhere, either 
in the old or new world, cither white or black. 
Strolling one day along the banks of the Avon, I 
accosted a peasant who was engaged in haying. 
Among other questions, I asked him the name of the 
stream on whose bank we stood. He replied that 
he did not know. On further inquiry, I found that 
he was born in that neighborhood, and had been a 
laborer in those fields for more than forty years. 
When sickness, age, infirmity, and decrepitude over- 
take them, they are conducted to the poorhouse, and 
breathe their last with no one to shed the tear of 
sympathy. They are followed by others who run the 
same round of wretchedness and almost brutal dco- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 3o5 

radation. So it has been for a long scries of ages — 
from time immemorial. This description is applica- 
ble to eight or ten millions of persons. 

Now, such a state of things, as all admit, — such a 
depression of the many to exalt the few, — is the result 
of feudal aristocracy, the transmission of hereditary 
honor, entailed estates, &c., factitious distinctions, 
created and upheld by the theory of the English 
government. " If any one can doubt about the es- 
sential injustice of this system, let him go back in 
his thoughts to the origin of society. Let me ask 
him to suppose that he, with a thousand other })er- 
sons, all standing upon terms of c(iuality, were al)out 
to reconstruct society, or to establish a colony on 
some distant shore. Suppose this company assem- 
bled, at the commencement of their enterprise, to 
form a civil constitution ; at this meeting, they all 
stand upon the same level. Now, imagine ion of 
these colonists to propose that they shoidd be made 
earls or lords ; that they should be made an hereditary 
branch of the legislature, with a negative upon the 
wishes and interests of all the rest ; and that, in order 
to secure their permanent respectability, they sho\ild 
be permitted to hold their estates in entail — a prop- 
osition very pleasant and palatable to the ten, doubt- 
less ; but could the rest of the company listen to it ? 
I put it to the veriest tory in the world, whether, as 
one of that company, he would listen to it ; I put it 
to him to say, whether he would consent that lots 
shoTild be cast to determine on whom the mantle of 
nobility should fall." * 

* Dr. Dewey. 



356 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

Attending a dinner party at the residence of a 
wealthy banker of London, I had a good deal of 
conversation with a very learned man, who was a 
graduate of Cambridge University, but had never 
travelled the distance of one hundred miles from the 
metropolis. To him England was of course the 
cynosure of nations, a perfect model as to civil gov- 
ernment, laws, literature, manners, church, and all 
else that belong to civilized life. He was saturated 
with knowledge of books and theories, and so purely 
English in his tastes and prepossessions, that his 
conversation was rich, lively, and entertaining. His 
prejudices against republican forms of government 
were so strong, that I did 2iot venture to utter a syl- 
lable by way of their defence or explanation. He said 
" it was a Utopian dream that any nation could enjoy 
permanent order and prosperity without a throne, an 
established church, and a privileged, hereditary class 
of nobles. The people are the base of the social 
superstructure ; the lords, temporal and spiritual, 
are tlie pillars which support this edifice, the columns 
and Corinthian capitals by which it is adorned. 

" Where are the republics of former times ? Where 
is Athens of old, tlie birthplace of democracy, the 
spot first consecrated to freedom, where the arts and 
graces danced around man in his cradle, bound his 
head with laurel wreaths, built for him cities, tem- 
ples, theatres, statues, and tombs, and irradiated the 
pages of literature with the light of genius ? A 
monarchy, an establishment, and an aristocracy like 
ours would have made Greece eternal. But now 
she is a mere vision, existing only in the fanciful 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. ' 357 

schemes of political dreamers, and flashing upon the 
pages of history — 

' Like the rainbow's lovely form, 
Evanishing amid the storm.' 

Your republic has lasted a little more than half 
a century, because you have a widely-extended 
territory and a sparse population. But when you 
shall have as many inhabitants on a square mile 
as England contains, what will prevent the igno- 
rant, vulgar, reckless, unprincipled, and impov- 
erished rabble from laying violent hands on the 
possessions of their neighbors, and subverting the 
sacred rights of property ? Indeed, upon the prin- 
ciple of universal suffrage, they can appropriate to 
themselves the estates and chattels of the wealthy 
witliout open violence. It may be done under the 
a^gis of your laws and constitution. The majority, 
if it pleases, every five years, will be able to enforce 
an agrarian division of property by the ballot-i)OX ; 
and where property is insecure, civilization will soon 
die out." 

It is almost impossible for an untravelled English- 
man to realize that property is nowhere perfectly 
safe but under a government like ours, which enables 
tlie poorest man, if healthy, to become a landholder, 
to live in his own house, and to possess in fee simple 
whatever is essential to his subsistence and comfort. 
Tlie great body of the people here — nine out of ten 
— have a spirit of contentment and independence, 
because in possession of a reasonable competence. 
When I hear men talk about the danger of their 



358 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

rising, in fury and madness, to destroy that very ten- 
ure, that very security, upon which their own posses- 
sions rest, their words seem to me dreamy and chi- 
merical. It supposes that will happen which the 
laws of human nature render impossible ; that men 
may enter into a conspiracy to sweep into the pit of 
ruin themselves, their wives, their children, their 
houses, their lands, and all that is dear to them on 
earth. To pass an agrarian law in such a country as 
this, would be striking a blow that must so certainly 
and instantly react upon its authors, that no civilized 
and reading people, no people capable of even the 
foresight of a child, could possibly be guilty of such 
folly ; it would be an act so plainly and perfectly 
suicidal. Besides, if we turn over the histories of 
the past, we shall find invariably that the rich, oli- 
garchical few, and not the poor plebeians, have been 
the assailants of the rights of property. If any one 
will take the trouble to examine the annals of for- 
mer ages, he will see that mobs, conspiracies, and 
insurrections have always originated in the mutual 
dissensions and persecutions of the loftiest and most 
privileged classes of society. The mass of the people 
are always sound, and if allowed to take their own 
way, unseduced and unterrified, would seldom choose 
the wrong path ; and when led into error, they would 
soon find it out, and promptly and cheerfully retrace 
their steps. The state of things with us, touching 
this topic, is happily described in the following 
lines : — 

" Self-love in each becomes the cause 

Of what restrains him — government and laws. 
For what one likes, if others like as well, 
What serves one will, when many wills rebel ? 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 359 

How shall he keep what, sleeping or awake, 
A weaker may surprise, a stronger take ? 
His safety mvist his liberty restrain ; 
All join to guard what each desires to gain. 
Forced into order thus by self-defence, 
The worst learn justice and benevolence ; 
Self-love forsook the path it first pursued, 
And found the private in the public good." 

Our conversation next turned upon the bill before 
Parliament for the establishment of free schools — ■ 
to extend to all children born into the kingdom the 
knowledge of reading, writing, and numbers. He 
said, " To me it is plain that tlie common people 
ought not to be educated. Popular education is one 
of the delusions which, in my day, have taken pos- 
session of the public mind. Lord Brougham has 
exerted his utmost abilities and eloquence to give 
it currency. He talks about raising the body of 
the people to intelligence, self-respect, and self- 
dependence. They know enough already to fulfil 
aright their missions in life ; more knowledge would 
tend to destroy their habits of subordination and 
submission to their superiors ; it would render them 
rebellious to lawful authority, and discontented with 
the condition which Providence has allotted tliem." 
Referring to Cousin's Report to the French Govern- 
ment on the Prussian School System of Education, 
for authority, he added, " It contains this extraordi- 
nary and astounding statement, viz., that in the best 
educated departments, the greatest amount of crime 
has been found to exist. This is a matter of statis- 
tics. Cousin says, that in France, education, where 
it has been tried, has made the common people 
worse. The knowledge of readinc; and writing, com- 



oGO AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

muiiicated to the lower orders, would qualify them 
to run more successfully the career of crime. lie 
who writes a good hand can easily become an adept 
forger or counterfeiter ; he who is skilful in arith- 
metic may carry on those stupendous schemes of 
fraud which would be forever beyond his. reach, were 
he ignorant of numbers. A reading people, who 
through the newspapers form an acquaintance with 
those measures of government, or conduct of indi- 
viduals whom they dislike, may easily be inspired 
with ambition, envy, discontent, and unhappiness, and 
by these means be urged on to excesses, vice, and 
extravagance ; to treason, rebellion, mobs, tumults, 
and massacres." 

Such sentiments are almost universally expressed 
by the aristocrats of England. I heard them ad- 
vanced by a bishop in the House of Lords ; but in 
justice I must add, that he expressed the opinion 
that it would do to teach all children to read, if they 
could be taught by ministers of the established 
church, who would subject them to a wholesome 
spiritual influence, and train them up to religion by 
the facile and insensible degrees of a pious and vir- 
tuous education. He asserted that the doctrine 
which considers intelligence in itself favorable to 
virtue an " utter follv," a most " dangerous mis- 
take." Even in the United States, I have often 
heard gentlemen urge arguments against the cause 
of popular education ; yet these men, at the same 
time, were employing teachers, books, travel, and 
every other means, to make their own children wise 
and learned. There is no culf into which we are 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 361 

liable to fall but the dark gulf of popular ignorance. 
Into it the nation will inevitably descend, unless it 
be closed up in time. " No single sacrifice, like the 
fabled sacrifice of the Koman Curtius, can avert the 
danger. A representative government represents 
the character of the people. And that government 
which represents prevailing ignorance, degradation, 
brutality, and passion, has its fate as certainly sealed, 
as if, from the cloud that envelops the future, a 
hand came forth, and wrote upon its mountain walls 
the doom of utter perdition." 

But the majority in this land are not a blind, igno- 
rant, reckless, unprincipled rabble. The blessings 
of a free press, free scliools, a free church, and uni- 
versal suffrage, pour upon the minds of our people 
the effulgence of knowledge and refinement. As 
returning spring covers the earth with verdure and 
beauty, so these divine principles shed upon the 
moral landscape the light and loveliness of order, 
peace, and intelligence. The fundamental error of 
all our moral, religious, and political systems is the 
hateful doctrine that men are naturally depraved — 
incapable of goodness and self-government. This 
error pervades the very spirit of civilized society, all 
its maxims and institutions, and the general tone of 
education. How much of all literature has been 
prostituted to the unholy work of traducing and de- 
preciating Imman nature — the noblest creation of 
infinite love with which we are acquainted ! The 
popular and prevailing idea, that sin is an essential, 
inherent part of man, is so wide spread, radical, com- 
prehensive, fearful, and fatal in its bearings, as to 
31 



362 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

overshadow almost with despair the moral prospects 
of an enslaved and benighted world. 

That portion of the English who possess culti- 
vated minds, wealth, and all its advantages, are to 
me less than nothing, and vanity, compared with the 
millions of wretched, impoverished beings there, that 
for a long series of ages have been the iinpitied vic- 
tims of injustice and oppression. Yes, my sympa- 
thies arc with that rabble — as I often heard them 
called — whose rights and interests are crushed down 
to earth by the banded tyrannies of church and state. 
And with sorrow I asked wise men the reason of all 
this. The only answer was, " They must be kept in 
this depressed condition to prevent them from rising 
to carry on a war of extermination against property 
— against the government, the throne, the church, 
and the nobility. It is necessary to our preservation 
that they should be excluded from the higher 
advantages of literature, art, science, freedom, and 
civilization." 

Tliis undervaluing of human nature, this blind- 
ness to its original worth and capabilities, is a lead- 
ing defect in the preaching and measures of many 
clergymen in the United States. The pulpit here 
is often exceedingly troubled with apprehensions lest 
the mass of the people, through ignorance and de- 
pravity, should imperil and subvert their civil rights 
and prosperity. They show a great want of confi- 
dence in the good sense and rectitude of their fellow- 
beings. Hence liundreds of ministers in the Nortli- 
crn States have been engaged, the past summer, in 
preaching politics. They tell their hearers that they 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 863 

must look to them for guidance and information in 
all these things, as well as m matters appertaining 
to the salvation of their souls. Though the peoi)le 
are trained to investigate political affairs for them- 
selves ; though books and newspapers abound which 
treat of these subjects, and are in the hands of every 
one ; and although they are ably and constantly 
discussed every week day, in legislatures, mass meet- 
ings, the family, the shop, the field, the store, the 
rail car, and the steamboat, yet these clergymen 
think it necessary, for the enlightenment of the people, 
to address them from the pulpit on the slavery ques- 
tion, and other topics, which should be left to the 
exclusive management of statesmen and professed 
politicians. 

As a class, the laity are much better informed on 
these subjects, and more competent to their discus- 
sion than ministers. Besides, by this practice the 
church is entirely desecrated. People go there on 
the Sabbath to have their thoughts lifted up towards 
God, heaven, and the life immortal. And what do 
they hear ? A mere political harangue, bitter de- 
nunciations of a large class of their follow-citizcns, 
and inflammatory appeals calculated to inspire them 
with hatred, prejudices, and all the worst passions 
of which our nature is capable. Such ministers do 
more to destroy respect for Christianity than all the 
infidel writings and preaching in the world. If 
these ministers are right, then professors should be 
appointed in all our theological seminaries, to initiate 
the pupils into the elements of political science. I 
thank God that the people of the United States arc 



364 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

capable of managing their own affairs, and that if 
every clergyman in the Union were this clay to 
breathe his last, laymen in sufficient numbers, and 
well qualified, would immediately step forward to 
fill their places. 

I went through England, Scotland, "Wales, and 
Ireland, and examined the most interesting objects 
which they present to the notice of travellers. A 
description of my experiences would fill volumes. 
I had read the history of those lands from a child. 
England was endeared to me as the birthplace of 
my ancestors, as adorned with all the embellishments 
which art, science, learning, and religion can bestow. 
I hardly saw a town, city, castle, river, lake, a hill 
covered with shrubbery and heather, a plain, valley, 
or mountain, which did not awaken in my mind long 
trains of historical associations. So that the glories 
of my fatherland for centuries past, as I moved 
along, rose and stood before me, with all the vivid- 
ness of real life — a panorama of the grand, beau- 
tiful, good, and picturesque of former ages. Every 
step of my way was on classic ground. For instance, 
at Holyrood Palace, near Edinburgh, I saw the bed- 
room and dressing room of Queen Mary, and the 
apartment in which Rizzio was murdered before her 
face by Darnley, Ruthven, and others. I lingered 
on that spot for hours. For a time I was a spiritu- 
alist. I beheld and conversed with the beautiful, 
accomplished, but unfortunate Mary. Perhaps, were 
it not for her beauty and sufferings, her name 
would not have been embalmed in the memory of 
everlasting ages. With Mary, thoughts of the per- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 365 

sons and scenes that determined her extraordinary 
fates and fortunes, the events of the age in which 
she lived, the distinguished men and women who 
were her contemporaries, rushed into my soul with 
the fulness and rapidity of a torrent. Overborne, 
carried away with the images and emotions inspired 
by the place, I staid there till it Avas nearly dark, 
and then went to my room to write notes and pass a 
sleepless night. This I did more than half the time 
whilst I was in Europe. 

The next day, taking leave of the Scotch metrop- 
olis, I went round through the Highlands to Glasgow. 
I saw the beautiful windings of the Forth, the 
Grampian Hills, the wild, magnificent Trossachs, 
Ben Nevis, and Ben Venue, the haunted waters of 
Loch Katrine, and the bold, majestic shores of Loch 
Lomond. From Glasgow I directed my course to 
Belfast, Ireland, and the Giant's Causeway. I had 
previously become acquainted with the scenery of 
Wales and the northern counties of England, Cum- 
berland and Westmoreland, which present a most 
indescribable assemblage of sublime and beautiful 
objects : lofty craggy mountains, prcci})itous cliffs, 
looking down upon the sweetest valleys ; small, 
secluded, verdant farms, in the highest state of culti- 
vation ; crystal lakes of the most romantic forms — 
sparkling gems in the landscape ; streams of pure, 
living, transparent water ; trees and flowers of the 
most elegant hues and shapes ; animals grazing ; gar- 
dens ; cottages with their slieltering bowers ; and oth- 
er things innumerable, whose expressiveness, delicacy 
of coloring, gracefulness of figure, and boldness of 



366 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

outline, can be understood by those only who have 
seen them with their own eyes. 

But I must confess that the scenery of Switzerland, 
the Alps, and Italy far surpasses the noblest exhibitions 
of nature in British landscapes. It is on a larger 
scale, and has peculiar features of grandeur and 
beauty, which adorn no other part of the world that 
I have seen. What is there in Great Britain, which 
her poets have sung so mvich about, comparable with 
Lake Colno and its enchanting shores ? I entered 
Switzerland from the soutiiern or Italian side, 
through one of the beautiful valleys of Piedmont, 
which commences near Lake Maggiore, about dark. 
There was no passenger in the diligence but myself. 
The sky was clouded and lowering. In a few mo- 
ments it began to rain violently, accompanied with 
vivid flashes of lightning and tremendous peals of 
thunder. This was the only thunder storm which 
I witnessed in Europe. By the help of the lightning 
I could see the towering mountains on each side 
of me. By the echoes from the surrounding sum- 
mits the claps of thunder were intensified, and made 
awfully grand. I felt and enjoyed the truth of the 
lines from Byron : — 



♦' The sky is changed ! and such a change ! O night ! 
And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, 
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light 
Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, 
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among. 
Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, 
But every mountain now hath found a tongue ; 
And Jura answers through her misty shroud 
Back to tlie joyous Alps, who call to her aloud I " 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 367 

In the midst of wind, rain, night, clouds, lightning, 
and thunder, we stopped at a small hotel to change 
horses. Here I was joined by two English gentle- 
men, who were on their way to Geneva. They 
proved to be quite intelligent, agreeable companions, 
and in the space of ten minutes the most cordial 
and friendly relations were established between us. 
I had been alone not more than two hours before 
they entered the diligence. At the beginning of the 
valley above named, a Scotchman, who accompanied 
me all the way from Milan, was stopped by the police, 
in consequence of some alleged informality in his 
passport. Behig pressed with want of time, 1 was 
compelled, with much regret, to part with him. 
This short period was the only occasion in which I 
was left absolutely solitary during the whole of my 
wanderings on the continent of Europe. 

The morning came " with breath all incense, and 
with cheek all bloom," glowing with life, radiance, 
and beauty. After breakfast we crossed the bridge 
of Crevola, and began to ascend what is called the 
Simplon road, which was constructed by the Em- 
peror Napoleon, and is generally called Bonaparte's 
road. The highest part of this road is six or eight 
thousand feet above the level of the sea. It is forty 
or fifty miles in length, and passes on the extreme 
declivity of ridges, over awful gulfs, that seem to be 
tliousands of feet deep, and roaring torrents, and 
through tremendous precipices, which, as you ap- 
proach them, appear like perpendicular barriers of 
impassable rock, reaching to the heavens. Yet over 
these ravines, gorges, and cascades, and down tre- 



o68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

meiidous cliffs, you arc carried as easily as if you 
were riding in a pleasure carriage along a smooth, 
level turnpike. The ascent is so gradual that it no- 
where exceeds two inches and a half in six feet, and 
carriages can descend without locking the wheels at 
any place. I am speaking now of the Italian side 
of the Alps, which to me was much more striking in 
scenery than that of Switzerland. The road some- 
times is terminated in one direction by a perpen- 
dicular precipice, towering from unfathomed depths 
below, absolutely precluding farther progress, except 
liy making a tunnel through the solid rock. Of 
these galleries, the largest, if I do not mistake, is 
six hundred feet long, twenty-seven wide, and thirty 
high, with three wide openings through its side to 
admit light. On the lower side of the road there is 
a wall laid with stone and mortar, whose solid ma- 
sonry resembles the sublime works described in 
ancient story as the creation of giants. The road 
passes over nearly three hundred bridges. At cer- 
tain intervals, stone houses are Iniilt across the 
mountains, the occupants of which are bound to 
keep' their stoves heated night and day, in cold 
weather, and a room ready for travellers. The Cath- 
olics have small oratories on the route, where the 
faithful may pause and perform their devotions. 
Near the summit is a hospice, in which strangers 
may find good entertainment. 

No work of art ever made so strong an impression 
on my mind as this road. Its features arc in keep- 
ing with the sublime and awful scenery through 
which it passes. As the traveller makes his way to 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 369 

the top of the Alps, panoramas of mountains are 
presented to his view one after another, each of 
which has a type of wildncss and grandeur peculiar 
to itself. No two are precisely alike. Some arc 
snowy peaks ; others rise in the shape of a cone 
formed of bare, naked rocks, utterly devoid of every 
kind of vegetation. One summit, whose altitude is 
perhaps thousands of feet, is clothed with dark fir 
groves. Another, separated from this only by a 
deep gorge, and to the eye not much more lofty, has 
on its sides the mingled phenomena of summer and 
winter. In point of fact they may he miles apart, 
but to the eye of the traveller they appear to be 
neighbors. Here is every form of majestic scenery, 
within the circumference of fifty miles, which our 
globe exhibits. Travelling through the Alps, you 
may see masses of snow descend to a certain point 
on the sides of the mountains ; and at that very 
point vegetation commences ; the cattle feed ; and 
even up to the very fields' of snow, within twenty feet 
thereof, are grass, shrubbery, trees, gardens, herbage, 
and cottages. But there is no space, had I the power 
to describe these things. No words can picture the 
charming valley of the Rhone, the beautiful Lake of 
Geneva, Mont Blanc, as seen from the surrounding 
mountains, Cliamouni, Mer de Glace, or the Glacier 
de Boisson, with their stupendous masses of ice, 
crowding down into the verdant valleys, or shoot- 
ing up in the figures of pyramids and pinnacles, 
stupendous, unequalled, and ineffably sublime. 

Northern Italy, about Lakes Como and Maggiore, 
has made indelible impressions on my memory. 



370 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

That and Switzerland awakened in my soul higher 
ideas of natural beauty and sublimity than I had 
ever before entertained. There is nothing- in the 
United States comparable to them as it regards in- 
teresting scenery. I was struck with the singular 
blending and contrasts which they present of all 
that is most magnificent and lovely in nature. There 
is hardly a spot in those regions where the travel- 
ler's horizon does not at the same moment embrace 
in its sweep mountain tops, ragged cliffs, fertile 
valleys, rich plains, verdant meadows, vineyards, 
gardens, embowered cottages, hills moulded into 
exquisite forms of elegance, crystal streams spar- 
kling in their purity, and clear, placid lakes, — so 
clear that, like a mirror, they reflect the blue depths 
of azure above, — the surrounding shores, with their 
terraces rising one above another, and lessening 
towards the top, the clouds and mountains, and the 
variegated hues and tints of the sky. These objects, 
innumerable and indescribable, set up in the gal- 
leries of my soul pictures of loveliness and grandeur 
which can never fade away — which enable me to 
commune with God, to feel the inspirations of his 
Spirit, and to catch partial glimpses and revelations 
of the wonders and glories of that higher world, 
destined for our immortal inheritance. Yes, the 
seeing of Italy and Switzerland filled my soul witli 
treasures, — perceptions, feelings, glorious images, 
worth more than all the material wealth of Europe, — 
treasures that will last long as the throne of heaven, 
wliicli are tlie dispensers of all tlie true happiness 
tliat lies within the sweep of time, or the boundless 
walks of futurity. 



KEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 371 

For myself, I am accustomed to see God in every 
thing which awakens my love and admiration. 
Whenever I behold any object, new, fair, orderly, 
proportioned, grand, or harmonious, in the physical 
world ; whenever 1 witness a high display of moral 
excellence, honor, faithfulness, and truth ; when- 
ever heaven from its majestic heights, or earth from 
its lowly vales, sends one sweet, delightful, or ele- 
vating thought into my mind, — that thought is to 
me but a revelation of the ever-present, ever-beauti- 
ful, ever-blessed Creator. The outward universe of 
majesty and beauty, as much as the Bible, is an un- 
folding of our Father's infinite perfections. And if 
we could think thus habitually and constantly, we 
should soar upward above these dark vales of time, 
their sorrows and gloom, and realize that no joy, no 
rapture on earth, can be likened to the ecstasies of a 
soul whose supreme affections centre on God. The 
holiest prayer which I am capable of offering is the 
thoughts and feelings which seize upon me when 
thinking of the character of Jesus, and the wonders 
of Calvary. Scarcely less profound and absorbing 
are my emotions when I hold deep communion with 
nature — nature, that possesses not an item of glory 
but what radiates far more brightly from the person, 
truth, and history of the Son of God. 

I cannot but repeat it, I thank God that I have 
been enabled to see Switzerland, — its endlessly- 
diversified mountains, cragged pinnacles, deep defiles, 
wild and romantic scenery, the varieties of hue 
and shade, the images of purity and repose, the flit- 
ting shadows and changing colors, which at the ris- 



372 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

ing and setting of the sun pass in rapid succession, 
like fairy forms, across the gently rippled, tremiUous 
waters of her lakes. When gloomy or melancholy 
thoughts come over me, I recall to memory some of 
these charming scenes, and sadness flees away. The 
clouds are dispersed. All around is like a bright, 
balmy, fragrant morn of spring. I listen to a sweet 
concord of melodious sounds. I look through 
" golden vistas, into a serener, happier world," and 
exclaim, — 

" Thou art, God, the life and light 

Of all this wondrous world we see ; 
Its glow by day, its smile by night, 

Are but reflections caught from thee ; 
Where'er we turn thy glories shine. 
And all things fair and bright are thine." 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 373 



CHAPTER XV. 

INTERIOR OF FRANCE. — THE MONOTONOUS ASPECT OF 
ITS SCENERY. — MANNER OF KEEPING THE SABBATH 
ON THE CONTINENT OF EUROPE, ETC. 

After sojourning in Paris a few days, I engaged 
a seat in the covpe, or front apartment of a diligence, 
for Clialons, a town situated on the Saone. When 
I ascended to my place, I found that my companions 
for the tour were two gentlemen, one on my right 
hand and one on my left, with an air, mien, and ex- 
pression completely French. Not a word was uttered 
by either of us while the carriage was rattling along 
the paved streets of the city. When we entered the 
country, the road became as level and smooth as 
a parlor floor. Then I ventured to break the disa- 
greeable silence by addressing some questions in 
French, (which I supposed was their vernacular,) 
first to one and then to the other of my fellow-travel- 
lers. They pretended not to understand my patois, 
shook their heads, and continued dumb. I then 
tried the English, but was equally unsuccessful. 
The man on my left had the looks of one belonging 
to some learned profession. I ventured to speak to 
him in Latin, a language with which all scholars on 
the continent of Europe are familiar ; but even this 
attempt elicited no response. They were as still as 
marble statues. I was about giving up the case as 
utterly hopeless, when the thought occurred that 



374 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

perhaps they mistook me for an Englishman ; for 
my friends in London had remarked that I looked 
much more like John Bull than Brother Jonathan. 
Immediately I remarked that I was a stranger from 
the United States, and this was my first visit to 
Europe. At this announcement their faces no longer 
wore a forbidding frown, but were lightened up with 
joy and kind expression. They apologized for the in- 
civility with which I had been treated, by confirming 
what I had before suspected. One was a merchant 
of Paris, who spoke the English with ease, and had 
visited Boston, New York, and Philadelphia. The 
other resided in Lyons, and was a lawyer of the 
largest information and the most agreeable powers 
of conversation. He knew every rod of ground we 
travelled over, and pointed out the localities of some 
of the most interesting scenes recorded in the history 
of France. 

From Belgium to Marseilles almost every acre of 
land is under the highest state of cultivation. Im- 
mense open fields, separated by no hedges or enclo- 
sures of any kind, stretch along in almost unbroken 
succession for hundreds of miles. Through un- 
known centuries past, they have poured forth their 
annual crops of fruits and vegetables. The stock in 
the pastures are kept from wandering, not by fences, 
but by shepherds, with the aid of dogs, which mani- 
fest a degree of intelligence almost equal to that of 
man. I scarcely saw a piece of woodland or swamp ; 
but through my entire route I remarked long ave- 
nues of trees, — elm, poplar, beech, — all trimmed 
up so as to be very lofty, without any imder branches. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 375 

For many miles together the road is lined on both 
sides with them ; and ranges of trees, forming squares, 
triangles, and groves of parallel rows, arc seen every 
where. But the scenery was so monotonous that I 
soon grew tired of looking at it. In travelling more 
than five hundred miles by land, from the north of 
France to the Mediterranean, we did not meet a sin- 
gle pleasure carriage, or any other vehicle, except 
mail coaches and the carts of the peasantry going to 
or returning from their daily labors. All whom I 
saw had a melancholy air, were poorly clad, and ap- 
parently broken down with excessive toil. 

"When I passed through these regions it was the 
season of harvesting. A great majority of the la- 
borers in the fields were women, and they performed 
the hardest kind of work, for the men mixed with 
them seemed in general to be aged, infirm, and fee- 
ble. All over England, Scotland, and Wales, I be- 
held the same spectacle — women in companies of 
ten, twenty, &c., digging, drudging, and delving in 
the fields, doing precisely that kind of work which 
slaves perform with us in the Southern States. By 
the help of my intelligent companions I learned 
much of the statistics that regard the peasantry of 
France. Millions in that country do not live as well 
as our slaves, work harder, are a great deal poorer, 
and incomparably less happy and less free. 

Yet, in conversation with enlightened Frenchmen, I 
was often reminded that the glory of our republic 
was impaired by the shocking evil of slavery. In 
reply, my invariable practice was to ask for a clear 
and precise idea of the term slavery. A talented, 



376 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

disingenuous man may conceal truth, and build up 
error by the use of equivocal and uncertain combina- 
tions of speecli. Vague and indefinite terms and 
statements have filled the moral world with doubts, 
misapprehension, and falsehood. All whom I met 
on this subject were willing to subscribe to these 
words, found in the treatise of Dr. Paley on Moral 
Philosophy : " Slavery is an obligation to labor for a 
master without one's own consent." " But our peas- 
ants and operatives," said one of my fellow-travellers, 
" are free ; no master can compel them to work." 

In answer to this assertion, I remarked, " You 
have just told me that the multitudes whom we see 
(most of whom are women) going to the fields with 
hoe and shovel in hand, or to the markets with 
heavily-laden baskets on their heads, are so poor that 
they cannot obtain the most scanty fare without this 
wearing toil and exposure, which deprives them of 
all the charms and advantages of civilized life. Ac- 
cording to your own statement, these women would 
starve if they did not regularly hire themselves out 
to work in the field, at the price of eighteen sous 
(less than eighteen cents) per day. At the same 
time, they, in part, support themselves, take their 
breakfast, which consists of nothing but a plate of 
thin, mean, sometimes rancid soup, at home ; their 
employer providing some bread and a pint of sour 
wine for their dinner, and not a particle of meat of 
any description. 

" They have no holidays but the Sabbath and the 
festivals of the church. They have never had, at 
one time, money enough to travel twenty miles from 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 377 

the spot where they were bom. And as to their not 
being compelled to toil, they can no more help it, — 
they can no more emancipate themselves from the 
fetters and manacles which bind them down with an 
adamantine necessity, — than they could create the 
vegetables and fruits that they grow and carry to 
market. More, this hopeless indigence and depres- 
sion, which have been handed down from time im- 
memorial, are the result of your laws. It has been 
ordained by your civil constitution in the same sense 
that the government of America has legalized Afri- 
can bondage. It is one of the sad remains of an- 
cient feudalism. Besides, your slaves are ' bone of 
your bone, and flesh of your flesh.' They are as 
noble and capable by nature as their masters. But 
with us the slaves are black, belong to an inferior 
race, and are just as incapable of enjoying equal 
rights and freedom with their masters, as the horse, 
the ox, or the mule. It is an empty boast that you 
have no slaves in France. "Within your territories 
are millions enslaved by the hand of law, and be- 
yond all comparison more destitute, helpless, and 
wretched, than African bondmen in our republic." 

I noticed the prevalence of the same delusion in 
England. The morning on which I reached Man- 
chester, the newspapers stated that fifty thousand 
persons in that city were suffering from starvation, 
and eloquent appeals were made to the community 
on their behalf. In a few moments after reading this 
notice, I called on a distinguished scholar and phi- 
lanthropist, with whom I had held some correspond- 
ence, through the introduction of a brother who 
32* 



378 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

resided in New Orleans. I was scarcely seated be- 
fore he introduced the subject of American slavery, 
remarking- that he was president of the Abolition So- 
ciety in Manchester, and that the day before a hand- 
some collection was taken up to further their objects. 
" Though far off," said he, " our hearts bleed for and 
sympathize with those among you, whom, in defiance 
of the sacred principles of the Declaration of American 
Independence, you are subjecting to a cruel and most 
merciless bondage. We learned from a speech deliv- 
ered here a few days ago by one of your own country- 
men, that the poor slaves in the south are habitually 
scourged and tortured by inhuman masters, to make 
them work harder ; that they have insufficient cloth- 
ing and inadequate food. He showed us pictures 
exhibiting the dreadful form of punishment practised, 
as he alleged, on the cotton and sugar plantations 
in general." In my reply, it was attempted to prove 
that the impressions which this gentleman had im- 
bibed in regard to American slavery were entirely 
erroneous. He listened to the statistics whicli were 
given him with the greatest joy. He used no invec- 
tives, no harsh, unchristian language, such as con- 
stantly Ml from the lips of anti-slavery apostles in 
this country, who generally meet the mildest argu- 
ments of their opponents by foaming out their anger, 
malevolence, and shame. Indeed, he went so far as 
to say that if my statements were true, (and he fully 
believed in their correctness,) the condition of our 
slaves, all things considered, would not be bettered 
by emancipation, were the experiment actually tried, 
and that the funds raised by British philanthropists 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 379 

for their relief should be expended in feeding the 
starving millions at their own doors. " 'Tis distance 
lends enchantment to the view." Constantly, when 
conversing with the wise and good of the old world 
about the American republic, I was asked how it was 
possible that a people so enlightened and generous 
could deliberately unite in disfranchising a large 
class of their fellow-beings, and withholding from 
them all the blessings which freemen most highly 
prize. But I found no difficulty in convincing them 
that we were not guilty of conduct so immoral and 
inconsistent with our political principles ; that wc 
allowed the negroes among us as much liberty as 
they were capable of, and that they had a much 
larger share of temporal means and happiness than 
any class of operatives that I had mot on the conti- 
nent of Europe. 

Paris and the other cities of France far surpassed 
my expectations. But I was sadly disappointed with 
the country, though it is so old, so rich, and so highly 
cultivated. About forty years ago, I took a journey, 
with two friends, through the State of Illinois. It 
was in the summer, and in several instances wc trav- 
elled for a whole day witliout meeting a human hab- 
itation, directing our course entirely by a pocket 
compass. Although the widely-extended prairies, of 
which the eye could find no limits, covered Avith grass 
and wild flowers of every form and hue, filled with 
deer, grouse, and other game unterrificd by the a]> 
proach and presence of man, presented a rare com- 
bination of sublime and beautiful scenery, yet the 
journeying across them inspired me with strange feel- 



380 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

ings of desolateness and melancholy. No loveliness 
of natural scenery can render an immense solitude 
agreeable, so strong and predominant are the social 
propensities whicli God has given us. In travelling 
through the interior of France, amid all its rich fields 
and vine-clad hills, I saw no beautiful country seats, 
no cottages embowered with trees, no fine houses, no 
briglit and happy faces, no children going to school 
with book in hand, no equipages, no persons appar- 
ently walking or riding for pleasure ; but a dreadful 
solitariness and seclusion seemed to reign every 
where. There may be people in those rural districts 
who possess the advantages of wealth, learning, 
leisure, and taste. None of this description are seen 
along the roads. Almost the entire population that 
meets the eye of the traveller belongs to the toiling 
multitude — miserable-looking people, tramping about 
in wooden shoes, heavy in their movements, their 
faces weather-beaten and unintelligent, living in low, 
filthy stone houses, destitute of comfortable furni- 
ture, whose large, projecting roofs embrace not only 
domicile, but also barn, stable, wood house, sty, <tc., 
where the accommodations for man and beast are 
almost equally mean, dirty, and disagreeable. 

But on the Sabbath, the country diifers very much 
in appearance from the aspect which it wears on the 
other days of the week. One Sunday I chanced to 
be in a lovely district on tlie banks of the Saone. 
The people, dressed in their best apparel, through tlic 
morning repaired in crowds to the churches. The 
Sabbath, all over the continent of Europe, in the 
afternoon is kept as a holiday. I saw small parties, 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 381 

families, kindred, and friends, when their religious 
services were over, engaged in conversation and ap- 
propriate amusements, Tliey seem cheerful, re- 
freshed, elastic, and happy. I could hardly realize 
that they were the same beings whom I had gazed 
on the evening before with sad emotions, as, ex- 
hausted, haggard, and care-worn in their looks, they 
were lifting off from their necks the iron yoke of toil. 
I was strucic with the quietness and decorum which 
marked these laborers during the hours devoted to 
relaxation. Though the population was all abroad 
after the season of divine service, in the streets, gar- 
dens, and public places, there was an entire, remark- 
able abstinence among the multitudes from all bois- 
terous mirth, loud talking, and laughter, frolicking, 
profaneness, intemperance, and excesses of every kind. 
Indeed, they were as quiet, orderly, and restrained 
as the collections around our church doors, when 
assembled for public worship. I noticed the same 
peculiarity all over France, Italy, and Switzerland. 
May not this extraordinary decorum be ascril:)ed to 
the fact that the whole Sabbath is not, as with us, 
devoted to religious services, but a part of it is em- 
ployed in innocent and useful recreations ? 

At any rate, I could not help feeling, with respect 
to these poor people, that the Sabbath was the most 
glorious portion of their earthly allotments ; that it 
far outweighed in value all their other temporal 
blessings and possessions. No words can describe 
the importance to the humbler classes of that reg- 
ular return of hallowed rest, which secures to them 
a Aveekly day of release from injustice and servility, 
from ignoble toil and Avearing drudgeries. By this 



382 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

divine appointment, the poorest peasant has one day 
in seven for the ennobling pursuits of knowledge 
and virtue, for the enjoyment of freedom and inde- 
pendence, and for the concentration of his thoughts 
upon God, Jesus, and immortality. The Sabbath 
tells the meanest slave that, however sad and for- 
saken on earth, he has an ever-present, almighty 
Father in heaven, who will one day admit him to 
" the glorious liberty of the children of God." To a 
poor family, the Christian Sabbath is more important 
than all the external wealth and magnificence of an 
evanescent world. The observance of this sacred 
day is not to be traced to the selfish, arbitrary enact- 
ment of a cunning, interested priesthood, but is en- 
forced upon us by a law as eternal, omnipotent, and 
unvaried, as that which causes our globe to revolve 
in its annual circuit around the sun. If death were 
an eternal sleep, the Sabbath w^ould still be indispen- 
sably necessary to secure the highest enjoyment of 
health, bodily vigor, temporal peace, and prosperity. 
To destroy the sabbatical institution, then, you must 
take human nature to pieces, and reconstruct it upon 
another far different and sublimer economy — an 
economy assimilating us to the inhabitants of that 
celestial world where toil, pain, fatigue, sleep, and 
mortality are never known. 

A distinguished American divine, writing home 
from France, says, " There is no Sabbath here ; for 
the Catholic custom prevails of spending the after- 
noon of the first day of the week abroad in the 
gardens, promenades, streets, &c. The most pious 
parents may be seen desecrating holy time by 
walkinc; or ridinc; out with their households for 



EEV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 383 

amusement. Nor is the practice regarded by the 
most scrupulous as inconsistent with the Christian 
character." I shoukl like to ask this eminent man 
if any law of God contained in the New Testament 
forbids the walking or riding out with children and 
friends on the Sabbath. On the contrary, the law 
of reason, of common sense, and Jesus Christ, pro- 
claims that both practices are highly becoming and 
salutary. I can scarcely imagine a more improving 
exercise of the head and the heart, than that of tak- 
ing one's children, and leading them abroad, in a 
sweet afternoon, to inhale the balmy air, to gaze on 
the flowers and herbage of the fields, to look on Na- 
tnre, and " through Nature up to Nature's God," 
till, rapt above this sublunary sphere, they break 
forth, perhaps, in the glorious words of Thomson, — 

" These, as they change, Almighty Father, these 
Are but the varied God ; the rolling year 
Is full of thee." 

From the bottom of my heart I commiserate the 
narrow soul who can look upon such forms of relax- 
ation as tending to dishonor God or his ordinances ; 
who conceives the Creator as capable of frowning a 
parent down to hell, and following his children from 
one generation to another with his wrath and curse, 
for the crime of an hour's innocent recreation on a 
Sabbath afternoon. Such absurd views have in- 
vested the Christian Sunday with forbidding gloom 
and melancholy, darkness and mourning, made it 
revolting to the glad spirit of childhood, and sur- 
rounded it with associations to young minds inex- 
pressibly odious and terrific. 



384 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

At Marseilles, I went on board a steamer which 
plies as a regular packet between that city and Na- 
ples, touching on its way at Genoa, Leghorn, and 
Civita Vecchia. I visited the principal objects of 
interest around the Bay of Naples, the delightful 
environs of Naples itself, Vesuvius, Hcrculaneum, 
Pompeii, the tomb of Virgil, the grotto of Pausilippo, 
Capri Baiffi, and the mouldering remains of villas, 
gardens, palaces, baths, and museums, which were 
the ornament and boast of the civilized world two 
thousand years ago. From this interesting spot I 
went to the Eternal City, crossed the Apennines to 
Milan, thence over the mountains to the Rhine, to 
Holland and Belgium. Soon as I entered London 
on my return from the continent, I ceased to feel as 
if I was in a foreign country. The accents of my 
native language, and all the objects which greeted my 
senses, bore such a striking resemblance to those of 
an American city, as to render it impossible to realize 
that the broad expanse of the Atlantic intervened 
between me and the land of my fathers. I could 
not help fancying that I was already on the banks 
of the Mississippi, in the presence of wife, children, 
and friends. 

When I commenced this writing, it was a part of 
my plan to include in it a more extended account of 
my experiences in journeying through the regions 
above named. Such a narrative would present many 
curious and interesting details, but there is no room 
for their admission into these pages, which have been 
already multiplied beyond my original intention. 



EEY. THEODOKE CLAPP. 385 

CHAPTER XVI. 

CONCLUSION. 

Born on the 29tli of March, 1792, 1 am now well 
advanced in my sixty-fifth year. I contemplate the 
end of my earthly existence full of gratitude and 
delightful hope. I thank Heaven that my lot has 
been cast in tliis wonderful age, and in this glorious 
land. This age has advantages wliich were not pos- 
sessed by any of its predecessors. The beautiful 
thoiiglits and brilliant deeds of the antecedent genera- 
tions of time constitute a portion of our inheritance. 
The earliest period of which history gives an account 
has contributed its quota to the resources of wisdom 
and happiness enjoyed by those who are now actors 
on the stage of human life. To us belong the poems 
of Homer, the writings of Plato and Virgil, the elo- 
quence of Demosthenes, and other luminaries which 
irradiated former days. To us belong the lofty ex- 
amples of heroism given by all the great and good 
whose names are inscribed on the annals of time. 
The reformation commenced by Luther, is now lav- 
ishing its benefits on every part of the civilized world. 
" For us the sailor at the mast head, on the evening 
of the 11th of October, 1492, cried out, Land ! land 
ahead ! and Columbus with his followers kissed the 
dust of a new continent." For us the Puritan 
Fathers, amid the horrors of winter and a rock- 
bound, savage, inhospitable coast, reared their altars 
33 



386 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

and sang their hymns to the God of civil and religious 
freedom, imploring his blessing upon their efforts to 
found " a church without a bishop, and a state with- 
out a king." From those who have gone before us 
have been derived most of the arts, science, learning, 
institutes, comforts, and blessings of the present 
civilization. 

But the good, true, and useful accumulate as time 
rolls on, and this age is richer in the beautiful than 
any which has preceded it. Does the correctness of 
this position appear doubtful to any one, I would 
say to him, let us look back only as far as our own 
memory reaches. During that time, what progress has 
been made in the means of personal, domestic, and 
■social peace ! What advances have we ourselves 
witnessed, running through the whole circles of educa- 
tion, art,, government, and literature ! Improvement 
has taken wings and visited the remotest lands, 
every where asserting her claims, and emancipating 
millions from the dominion of ignorance, injustice, 
and oppression. And this spirit of improvement, 
which has done so much in our time, is instinct with 
the principle of self-preservation and everlasting 
growth. Education, freedom, and the sublime, en- 
nobling principles of Christianity are the recupera- 
tive means which must one day overspread the earth, 
and roll the mighty burden of man's bondage and 
sorrow into the gulf of annihilation. The human 
mind can never stand still. Its faculties continually 
grow more vigorous and expansive — become fitted 
for wider excursions and higher views of truth and 
duty. The world never stands still, nor takes a step 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 387 

backward. To do the one or the other is not within 
the limits of possibility. It cannot be doubted but 
that in time to come civilization will increase more 
rapidly than it has done during the last half century. 
No mortal can foresee its progress. But judging its 
future triumphs from the past, we may conclude 
that the day will certainly come when all mankind 
will be completely delivered from evil, and the king- 
doms of this world become the triumphant kingdoms 
of the Prince of Peace. 

We are intimately and forever allied to all who 
have lived in former ages. " We should consider 
ourselves as links in that vast chain of being which 
commences with our race, and runs onward through 
its successive generations, binding together the past, 
the present, and the future, and terminating with tlic 
consummation of all things earthly at the throne of 
God."* The revelation of Jesus Christ enables us 
to look back through the dim and misty shadows of 
by-gone times, with all their vicissitudes of honor 
and shame, tears and rejoicings, crimes and virtues, 
and discern the divine, mysterious web of that sub- 
lime destiny by which God is weaving for each and 
all of Adam's race the issues of everlasting life, 
brightness, and beatitude. The Creator has never 
been disappointed. He sees the end from the begin- 
ning. Mankind, in each of the antecedent epochs 
and eras of earth's history, have been in exact ac- 
cordance with that plan of creation which has ex- 
isted eternally in the unsearchable counsels of the 
Father. The question is often asked, Why did not 

* Webster. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 



the advent of our Saviour take place at an earlier 
date ? The true answer is suggested by the apostle 
— " The fulness of time had not yet come." The 
world was not ready to receive him sooner. 

Mankind have always been rising in the scale of 
perfection, and as soon as they were sufficiently ele- 
vated to justify the dispensation, Jesus Christ ap- 
peared among them. Far be it from me to utter any 
sophistries calculated to lower the ideas which Chris- 
tians generally entertain concerning the enormity of 
sin. But I have long thought, that as water cannot 
run up stream, so the moral characters of individu- 
als and nations cannot range in general above the 
level of their allotments. By allotments I mean 
place of birth, parentage, succeeding years, with all 
their surroundings. Reflect on the almost inevita- 
ble fate of one born in China ; on the banks of the 
Ganges, Missouri, or Niger ; in Constantinople, 
Boston, New Haven, or Mexico. The most dark, 
disgraceful pages of civil or ecclesiastical history do 
not prove that former generations were more corrupt 
in the sight of God than we are, but simply that 
their means of exaltation and happiness were inferior 
to those which we enjoy. All things considered, 
they did as well as they could. Their capabilities 
and as})irations could not have been more elevated 
than the plane of their allotments. 

I have said that this age is more glorious than any 
of its predecessors. Why ? First, because the hum- 
bler, poorer, dependent, and industrial classes pos- 
sess a much larger share of physical comforts than 
they ever did in former times. When Egypt was in 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 389 

the zenith of prosperity, serfs, poor, broken, and 
crushed to the dust, built cities, pyramids, and tombs, 
tilled the ground, and gathered harvests, not for them- 
selves and children, but for others — a proud aristoc- 
racy, who looked upon the condition of a laborer as 
base and dishonorable. What a change has taken 
place since ! I am satisfied from the best data, that 
the wealthiest person living in Great Britain six 
hundred years ago did not enjoy more extended 
means of physical happiness, than the poorest man 
in possession of good health and good character now 
has throughout the United States. Nor is it im- 
probable that in the year 2500 of the Christian era, 
the humblest operative will be better off in a tempo- 
ral point of view than the wealthiest inhabitant of 
London, New York, or Boston at the present day. 
The prediction of Dr. Franklin is not absurd, that 
the time will arrive when the burden of immod- 
erate and oppressive labor will be taken off from 
all classes, and the most impoverished will have 
leisure enough, every day, to cultivate their minds, 
acquire mental wealth, enjoy society, and prepare 
themselves for the destinies of a higher existence. 

Again, I thank God that I have been permitted to 
live under the best civil government which the world 
has ever seen. I rejoice that my birth was in the 
land which Washington, Franklin, Adams, Jeffer- 
son, and their illustrious compatriots, rescued from 
the severest of all the curses which have afflicted 
our race — the curse of tyranny and superstition 
combined. Above all other parts of the world, I love 
the soil where repose the ashes of those noble and 



390 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

magnanimous fathers, who, in the spirit of the blessed 
Jesus, gave up their all — wealth, ease, sacred honor, 
and life itself, for the benefit of after ages, for the po- 
litical and moral regeneration of a world, I love the 
soil in which my mortal remains must shortly be 
laid, but not without the transporting hope that it 
will be trodden, to the last verge of time, by innu- 
merable millions, free, enlightened, and happy. 

That God, who was a Friend, Benefactor, and Sa- 
viour in the eventful and perilous exigencies which 
marked our progress during the protracted war of 
the revolution, till we had attained a place and name 
among the nations of the earth, has been our shield 
and protection ever since, and is this day enriching the 
inhabitants of the United States with a greater vari- 
ety and amount of the means of happiness than were 
ever bestovv'cd upon any other people, either of an- 
cient or modern times. Within a little more than 
two centuries, large tracts of the vast continent on 
which we are placed have been changed from an un- 
broken, unsightly wilderness, into a succession of 
rich plains, fertile valleys, green meadows, waving 
wheat fields, gardens, orchards, peaceful hamlets, 
smiling villages, splendid cities, with all the diversi- 
fied laws, institutes, manufactures, charities, and 
public works that are requisite to raise a community 
to the highest enjoyment of art, science, social re- 
finement, and the countless blessings of Christianity. 
Our territory reaches from the regions of eternal 
ice to the unfading verdure and flowers of the trop- 
ics. On the one hand it touches the shores of the 
Atlantic, on the other those of the Pacific. We 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 391 

have every variety of climate and soil, and inex- 
haustible resources of mineral wealth. If all our 
natural riches were developed, we could easily feed 
and clothe the present population of the globe. Our 
commerce spreads its white pinions to the winds of 
every zone, ploughs the bosom of every sea, and brings 
home the fruits and treasures of all latitudes. Our 
schools and seminaries pour forth the light of knowl- 
edge upon the humblest persons, however unadorned 
by wealth or unknown to fame. Our ciiurches, from 
the unpretending chapel made of logs to the costly 
sanctuary of granite or marble, stand open for all, 
without distinction, where they may enter to worship 
God according to the dictates of their own con- 
sciences. Our young artists are attracting notice, 
praise, and admiration in London, Paris, Florence, 
and even the Eternal City, Rome. I heard the cele- 
brated Carlyle say that the eloquence of our Con- 
gress, pulpit, and press was unsurpassed by that of 
any nation in Europe. 

Where on earth is the country that can, at this 
moment, be pronounced in so prosperous a condition 
as ours ? Traverse the whole globe, and where can 
you find a land in possession of so many blessings, 
contrasted with so few disadvantages, as tliis in which 
Providence has assigned ns a home ? God be 
praised that, contrary to the predictions of its ene- 
mies, both foreign and domestic, the American re- 
public stands forth to-day, in the sight of heaven and 
before an admiring world, beaming with all the fresh- 
ness and bloom of a young existence ; perfecting her 
establishments by the collected wisdom of all former 



392 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

ages, and the fruits of its own rich experiences ; a 
lighthouse to the whole earth, an example to all who 
would be free, the common benefactress of humanity, 
the destined redeemer of all the enslaved, oppressed, 
and injured millions that tread our globe. The 

words RATIONAL, EQUAL, WELL-DEFINED, CONSTITUTION- 
AL LIBERTY for all, is the motto inscribed upon our 
banner, our device, our polar star, the secret of all our 
glory. This diffuses the lustre of heaven over every 
part of our land ; this is the crowning beauty of our 
mountains, plains, valleys, rivers, lakes, seas, homes, 
schools, churches, tribunals of justice, and halls of 
legislation ; this is an essential ingredient of the at- 
mosphere we breathe, and is embedded in our soil 
firmly as the granite of the ever-enduring hills. 

The American government rests upon the great 
principles that God is the Father of all ; that all 
men are equally precious in his sight — equally im- 
portant in the counsels of the Infinite One ; and that 
we are under sacred, most imperative obligations to 
respect the rights, welfare, and happiness of all, 
whatever may be their origin or color. Instead of 
traducing, depreciating, and wishing to dissolve this 
government, those who enjoy its blessings should 
strive to maintain it inviolate, as a legacy of inesti- 
mable value, dearer than life itself, and be willing 
to pour out their hearts' blood, if necessary, to 
transmit it unimpaired to succeeding generations. 
May the universal Father, in his infinite mercy, 
grant that, as age after age shall pass away, adding 
to our population and multiplying our resources, the 
people of this great republic may become more and 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 393 

more wise, thankful, and self-governed, more devoted 
in their attachment to private and to public virtue, 
be actuated by more generous affections for each 
other and for mankind, and be ennobled by a pro- 
founder consciousness of their responsibility to the 
God of nations. 

Every point relative to the perpetuity of our Union 
is of general, transcendent, and ineffable moment ; 
for the experiment which we are now making is to 
determine the problem whether the whole human 
family will hereafter be free, intelligent, and happy, 
or ignorant, enslaved, and miserable. Were I not 
permitted to believe that the unfavorable predictions 
relative to the stability of our precious institutions, 
uttered by so many, were the mere effusions of dis- 
appointed, murmuring, splenetic ambition, in de- 
spair I should bid adieu even to the hopes of the 
universal triumph of civil and religious freedom, and 
the exaltation of man to millennial glory. 

Once more, I thank God that my lot has been cast 
in an age rendered illustrious by the rapid increase 
and more extended diffusion of useful knowledge. 
When Lord Bacon wrote the Novum Organum, 
when Newton composed his Principia, and Locke 
wrote his Essays, wlien Milton and Shakspeare sang 
the never-dying strains of poetry divine, the idea of 
a common school education had not been seriously 
entertained by any of the wise men living in Great 
Britain. It was thought that the mass of the people 
were destined to grope their way forever in a thick 
night of ignorance and mental bondage. What a 
revolution has passed over that country since ! 



394 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

As to our own happy land, I may almost say, with- 
out qualification, that the humblest operatives under- 
stand reading, writing, and numbers. They have 
their newspapers, journals, books, and literary asso- 
ciations. After the labors of the day are over, instead 
of going to pass the evening in some haunt of dis- 
sipation, they repair to a lyceum or club room, 
where the lecturer spreads out before them the glit- 
tering phenomena of the heavens, or the recently- 
developed wonders of geology. In these calm, 
peaceful retreats, they listen to able discussions on 
the weightiest matters of history, law, political sci- 
ence, and religion. On the Sabbath, they can go 
to the church, and, with perfect freedom and safety, 
criticise the sermon they have heard. If it so 
please, they boldly proclaim that the preacher is in 
error, and that his discourse was a miserable failure. 
When Calvin lived, and preached in Geneva, no per- 
son could openly condemn his creed or homilies, 
without being exposed to imprisonment, exile, or 
some other form of martyrdom. 

But in our day, the pulpit is less gloomy, appalling, 
and repulsive. It is no longer chiefly employed in 
sending forth what have been called the thunders, 
lightning, and anathemas of divine wrath, but, clothed 
with beauty and love, it speaks the language of a 
fond mother to her dear children. It has come 
down from the cold, misty, mountainous regions of 
dogma and denunciation, to describe, in terms which 
the dullest intellect can understand, and in tones 
sufficient to soften the hardest heart, the boundless 
wonders of a Saviour's love. Most encourai^ing 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 395 

fact, the pulpit is ceasing to philosophize, and de- 
lights rather to point the poor sinner to that cross 
which is the memento of infinite mercy — the me- 
mento of that light with which Heaven is pleased to 
irradiate this dark valley of graves, and make sor- 
row, bereavement, and mortality rounds in that 
spiritual ladder on which we may ascend to ever- 
lasting mansions in the skies. 

Furthermore, I rejoice to have lived in a day when 
the Bible has passed through the severest ordeal to 
which it has ever been subjected, and has come forth 
from the trial, shining not only with undimmed, but 
with increasing brightness, Strauss and his co- 
adjutors have employed all the resources of their 
learning and fascinating style to throw discredit 
upon the miracles of the New Testament. Let 
Christianity be assailed by every weapon that can be 
found in the armory of sound discussion and legiti- 
mate reasoning. It is ill defended by refusing audi- 
ence or toleration to the objections of honest in- 
quirers. We pay but a poor compliment to the 
sacred volume by supposing it liable to be injured or 
destroyed by the pens of philosophers. Could the 
ablest scholars, by putting forth their profound and 
charming productions, overthrow men's confidence 
in arithmetic, Euclid's geometry, Cicero, Virgil, 
Newton, or Laplace ? Could their pens demolish the 
loom, the plough, the press, the chronometer, the 
compass, the railway, the telegraph, or the steamer? 
No more can their words destroy Moses and the 
prophets, Jesus and his apostles, whose writings have 
withstood the assaults of infidelity for so many cen- 



396 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 

tiiries. A book that is adapted to man's highest and 
eternal wants, and to his noblest aspirations, can 
never die. This is the secret of that indestructible 
life which the Holy Scriptures possess. 

Mr. David Hume was at the head of a literary 
club in Edinburgh, composed of the greatest scholars 
in Scotland. These gentlemen openly avowed the 
opinion, that at the expiration of one hundred years, 
the Bible, in the minds of enlightened men, would 
stand upon the same level with all the uninspired 
poets and philosophers of superior genius that have 
come down to us from by-gone ages. A century has 
passed, and what has become of the prophecy ? The 
Bible is more loved and rightly appreciated now 
than it was then. The tornado of infidelity, all 
these long years, has been sweeping over tlie sturdy 
trunk of revealed religion. " It has not even been 
bent by the fury of the storm ; none of its leaves, 
flowers, fruits, nor branches, have been shaken down, 
nor so much as the dependent parasites clinging to 
their tops." There is hardly a family in the United 
States, that can read, where the Bible is not found 
and cherished. As the clouds which interpose be- 
tween us and the rising sun often reflect the richest 
hues, so the works written to obscure the word of 
God have only served to unfold and recommend its 
divine, ineffaceable glories. And now an open, deep, 
genuine reverence for the gospel characterizes the 
freest, profoundest, and most successful inquiries in 
science, philosophy, and literature. 

The divines of my native state — Massachusetts — 
have been foremost in their endeavors to restore the 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 397 

Scriptures to their original simplicity, power, and 
glory. In no part of the world has the spirit of im- 
provement achieved greater wonders, since the com- 
mencement of the present century, than in New 
England. All over the variegated surface of that 
romantic land, new villages, towns, and even large 
cities, have suddenly sprung into existence, as if 
indeed raised by the magician's wand. But more 
memorable than any outward creations or triumplis, 
that reflect so much glory on the north, are the val- 
uable researches and discoveries which her accom- 
plished scholars have lately made in the departments 
of biblical criticism and theological science. In the 
spirit of a humble, but thorough, fearless, and inde- 
pendent inquiry, the New England clergy have ven- 
tured to scrape off the moss from the rock of " eter- 
nal truth," not, as enemies insinuate, with the pre- 
sumptuous, wicked intention of erasing the words 
engraved thereon " by the diamond pen of inspira- 
tion," but rather to ascertain whether the autographs 
— the original letters inscribed upon these unwasting 
pillars — have not been slurred, glossed, changed, or 
corrupted, during a long course of dark and super- 
stitious ages, by the dexterous management of un- 
inspired, unauthorized hands. In otlicr words, they 
have simply taken the liberty to discriminate be- 
tween what is human and divine in their formulas, 
creeds, catechisms, religious books, and sacred insti- 
tutions in general. 

To me it is a subject of thanksgiving, that within 
the last few years, a new and more efficient system 
of religious literature has been brought into exist- 
34 



398 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

ence. The Roman Catholics, the Episcopalians, 
and the various Protestant denominations, arc en- 
lightening the American people with vade mecums, 
prayer books, spiritual guides, sermons, pamphlets, 
reviews, newspapers, and tracts, on innumerable sub- 
jects, adapted to all classes of minds. Who can de- 
scribe the extent, variety, and riches of our Sunday 
school and juvenile libraries ? When I was a boy, 
there was only one book in our Union, besides the 
Scriptures, especially intended for the use of chil- 
dren — the New England Primer. Now, religious 
truth is served up in every shape most likely to ar- 
rest, beguile, and please the youthful mind — in a 
fable, a romance, a poem, a story, even in books of 
travels, of natural history, and natural philosophy. 
Some clergymen object to these modes of conveying 
spiritual instruction, but, as it seems to me, without 
good reason. The great Mr. Wesley introduced 
some tunes into church music, which for a long time 
had been appropriated exclusively to plays, theatres, 
and convivial entertainments. In reply to those 
who censured him for doing so, he said he had no 
idea that sin and Satan should have all the best mu- 
sic to themselves. So I would say of fine literature, 
— let it not be entirely devoted to the cause of irre- 
ligion. It is an engine of inconceivable power, and 
is just beginning to be wielded with effect for tlie 
promotion of Christianity. In our religious reading, 
there are, to be sure, for the present, some crudities 
and imperfections ; but these will soon be removed, 
when a stream of pure, beautiful erudition will flow 
forth, spreading a divine light and life over every 
part of our beloved republic. 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 399 

Within the last year, I have heard many worthy 
and enhghtened persons remark, that to their eyes, 
Christianity has of late been rapidly declining in the 
United States, and that if it go on much longer to 
fall in the same ratio, it will soon be obliterated from 
the map and hearts of the American people. Now, 
such a gloomy prediction is alike opposite to my judg- 
ment, faith, and strongest aspirations ; I cannot bear to 
entertain it ; I cannot believe that it has the slightest 
foundation in truth. To me the very reverse is the 
case. Christianity, I think, has been more flourish- 
ing among us the last thirty years than at any for- 
mer period. 

The basis of this opinion is the universally ac- 
knowledged fact, that within this time there has been 
a great and unprecedented multiplication of churches 
and kindred organizations among us, and that of 
every name and denomination. I rejoice in the rapid 
increase of all those various societies called churches, 
as furnishing conclusive evidence of the growth of 
genuine Christianity ; for they all recognize the 
Bible as their standard of faith and practice. I 
look with unqualified delight upon the founding and 
building up of a temple for the use of any sect. 
AYhen I behold such a sight, I do not pause to ask 
what it is called, nor what its particular creed and 
forms are to be ; nor do I cherish any other wish 
concerning them, than that they may be congenial 
to the taste and advancement of the congregation 
for whose benefit the new edifice is erected. Every 
church seems to me a most beautiful spot, like an 
oasis in a surrounding desert. I regard it as adding 



400 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

important strength to that holy bond, which I trust 
will cement in unbroken, everlasting union the con- 
federated states which compose our great republic. 
It is like gazing upon a lovely landscape, to sec a 
building where my fellow-behigs meet to forget for 
an hour the vanities and vexations of earth ; to offer 
their united orisons to a common Father ; to trust in 
that Redeemer who died for them, who is the con- 
necting link between earth and heaven, the mortal 
and deathless, time and eternity ; to obtain a partial 
respite from the ennui and burdens of life, by catch- 
ing glimpses of that higher and better world re- 
vealed in the gospel, towering in all the glories of 
immortality beyond these shadowy and evanescent 
scenes. 

There is another proof that evangelical religion is 
on the increase in this land. I allude to the rapid 
decline of the spirit of sectarianism. The fact is 
not denied. As explanatory of this phenomenon, I 
will state a curious circumstance. For hundreds of 
years, the different denominations of Christians were 
alienated and kept asunder by the sincerest convic- 
tion that erroneous opinions, honestly hold, were a 
sufficient cause for refusing to fraternize with each 
other, though they might all agree in accepting the 
Scriptures as a divinely-inspired standard of faith 
and duty. In the present day, this ground is almost 
entirely abandoned. Now, a reception of the Bible, 
without any particular creed, is nearly the universal 
bond of Christian union. It is a memorable fact, 
tliat the only heresy condemned in the New Testa- 
ment, is not an error of the understanding, honestly 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 401 

entertained, but a sin of the heart. St. Paul teaches 
that the only Antichrist is an evil intention, a bad state 
of the affections — "hatred, variance, emulation, 
wrath, strife, envyings, ill-will, and murder ; " but 
that all who are actuated by the pure sentiments of 
"joy, peace, meekness, gentleness, goodness, forbear- 
ance, love, and charity, are acceptable to God, and 
entitled to the respect and approbation of man." 
Here is a broad scriptural platform, on wliich all 
the clergy and laity of Cliristendom may meet, to 
maintain a heartfelt, an harmonious, and a heavenly 
intercourse. 

It is laid down by Washington, in his Farewell 
Address, that a belief in the principles of revelation 
is requisite to make a man a good member of polit- 
ical society. lie expresses the opinion that, without 
the aid of the Bible, no form of free government 
can have a lengthened existence. Thank Heaven, 
the humble Christian pastor can now greet as his 
co-laborers, in commending and upholding the word 
of God, presidents, senators, governors, and repre- 
sentatives, judges, members of the bar, all the learned 
professions, and every one of superior grade in in- 
tellect and influence throughout the land. So long 
as all feel that the glorious superstructure of our 
freedom is based upon the sacred volume, must they 
not cling to it as our ark, our palladium, the sheet 
anchor of our nation's prosperity and glory ? 

It is not enough that reform, secular improvement 

in every department, arts, education, schools, and 

learning sliould be carried on among us with all 

possible skill and energy. They, indeed, are all 

34* 



402 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

wanted, and are divinely appointed instruments of 
usefulness and refinement. But something more is 
requisite to perpetuate our civil institutions, which 
is forever beyond their reach, too mighty for mere 
human agents and instrumentalities to accomplish. 
This is the sublime ideas of God, virtue, and immor- 
tality, derivable only from the sacred Scriptures. 
This is the subordination of the hearts of the Amer- 
ican people, with their dark, wild, wayward, ungov- 
erned passions, to the spirit and laws of the Chris- 
tian religion. A nation may possess a boundless 
physical prosperity, yet, without the guiding and 
guardian genius of the gospel, it will be only a more 
shining mark for the shafts of destruction ; like 
some gallant ship, the owner's pride and glory, 
richly freighted, but launched upon the boisterous 
main without star, rudder, or compass, to enable her 
to find a haven of safety. If the majority of this 
republic repudiate Christian principles, our existence 
will indeed be short and troubled, and we shall 
speedily go down, to be mingled with the ashes of 
our predecessors in the vast cemetery of departed 
states and empires. 

In consequence of early training and associations, 
I left my native state (Massachusetts) carrying with 
me the prejudices which the people of New England 
are very generally accustomed to cherish towards 
their neighbors at the south. Among the wise men 
who directed my education, it was an undisputed 
principle, that instances of superior intellect, culti- 
vated taste, and high moral worth, were seldom 
found in the slaveholdiug states. They seemed to 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 403 

be unconscious of the fact that philosophic culture, 
creative art, and the inspirations of immortal 
genius, rose the highest in the civilized nations of 
antiquity, when three fourths, at least, of their in- 
habitants were disfranchised, and doomed through 
life to endure the evils of a slavery vastly more 
aggravated than that which now exists in any part 
of the world. 

The Bible furnishes incontrovertible evidence that 
slaveholders may be saints, sages, apostles, and pa- 
triots ; that it is quite possible for them to exercise 
towards their dependants (and that in the great- 
est perfection) all those strong and tender sensibil- 
ities comprehended in the precept, " Thou shalt 
love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy 
neighbor as thyself." For the wise and holy men 
whose names are mentioned in Genesis and other 
portions of the Old Testament, and whose charac- 
ters are declared to l)e models of benevolence, jus- 
tice, and patriotism, in accordance Avith the express 
permission of Heaven, sustained precisely the same 
relation to that part of their families denominated 
servants in Scripture, as southern masters, at the 
present day, do to their slaves. Yes, in every age 
and clime, as far back as history runs, the greatest, 
wisest, and best men on earth, both in theory and 
practice, have sanctioned the principle of slavery. 
How absurd, then, the idea that it is of necessity 
only corrupting and deleterious in its effects on the 
character of masters and the most precious interests 
of civilization ! 

For forty years past, it has been my lot to reside 



404 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

south of Mason and Dixon's line. I went there 
fresh from the Theological Seminary at Andover, 
Massachusetts, a firm believer in the superiority of 
the north, in every respect, over all the rest of the 
Union. Though a youth " to fortune and to fame 
unknown," I was cordially welcomed, and treated 
with a more noble hospitality, a more marked and 
uniform kindness, than I had ever experienced in the 
land of the Puritans. I found the slaveholders in 
general possessed of a wider range of knowledge, 
much more refined, gentle, and condescending in 
manners, far superior in the graces and amenities of 
social intercourse, to those regarded as well-bred 
and respectable people throughout the cities, towns, 
and villages of New England. I was sorry that the 
prejudices of education and northern society had led 
me, even in thought, to undervalue and disparage a 
large class of fellow-citizens entitled to my sinccrest 
respect and admiration. In a worldl}'- point of view, 
I had nothing calculated to recommend me to their 
civilities and attention. Yet I was admitted into the 
most distinguished circles as a friend, equal, and 
intimate companion. Nowhere, in any part of the 
world, have I ol)served less of aristocratic preten- 
sions, of pharisaic, cold-hearted, unsympathizing 
conduct towards the poor, humble, and unfortunate. 
By an acclimating process suffered in Louisville; 
Kentucky, my life was brought near unto death. 
After convalescence commenced, when still in a very 
weak and precarious condition, an opulent planter in 
the neighborhood, witli whom I was personally un- 
acquainted, but who had once listened to my words 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 405 

from the pulpit, heard of my illness, and, unsolicited, 
paid me a visit. Immediately, he employed the re- 
quisite means to have me removed from the heated, 
enervating atmosphere of the city to his own de- 
lightful villa, which was fanned by cool, refreshing 
breezes, and replenished witli rural charms in the 
greatest variety and abundance. His wife and 
daughters nursed me with as much assiduity and 
attention as the most affectionate mother could be- 
stow on a beloved child. Such unexpected kindness 
from the liands of total strangers revived my sinking 
spirits, enlarged my views of human nature, and 
taught me the sublime lesson, that the noblest forms 
of Christian excellence are not confined to any par- 
ticular class, creed, sect, or condition of humanity. 

This gentleman, who under God was instrumental 
in preserving me from an early grave, had always 
lived in the State of Kentucky, and never journeyed 
beyond its boundaries, except in a single instance. 
Yet he was a person of varied and extensive infor- 
mation, a great reader, and a profound logician. I 
have met but few clergymen in any land whose con- 
versation was more edifying, even in relation to those 
topics of inquiry peculiar to the clerical profession. 
In defiance of the narrowness of early teaching, and 
the prevailing forms of faith around him, he had 
unconsciously imbibed, from a careful and systematic 
perusal of the Holy Scriptures, Unitarian views of 
Christianity. At that time, my own creed respecting 
the Trinity was Calvinistic. Touching this theme, I 
had listened to the reasonings of the greatest theolo- 
gians at Yale College and Andover, and fancied my- 



406 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 

self in possession of all that could be said on the 
subject. 

One day, this gentleman proposed to mo tlie fol- 
lowiiio- question : " Does the Bible teach that there is 
but one uncreated, undivided, indivisible Being in 
the universe, possessing the attributes of infinite, 
indei)endent life, power, wisdom, truth, rectitude, 
and love ? " This question was answered in the 
affirmative — "There is only owe God.'''' He then 
added, " You cannot, therefore, with propriety, use 
the term Trinity to denote the idea that there arc 
three separate persons or beings in the Godhead — 
three individuals, each of whom is absolutely infinite, 
in the divine nature ; for you have already said 
that there is but one boundless individiial, or person, 
in existence. "What, then, do you mean, when you 
say that there are ///rce persons in the Godhead?" 
I was compelled to acknowledge, after a lengthened 
discussion, that it was impossible to give any definite, 
rational, or scriptural signification of the word Trin- 
itij, except upon the plan of exegesis adopted by the 
Unitarians. From that day to the present, I have 
uniformly repudiated the distinguishing views of the 
Athanasian creed. I am under everlasting obliga- 
tions to this gentleman, denounced by the fanatics as 
a godless slaveholder, for opening to me trains of 
thought, by the pursuit of which I was so happy as 
to obtain an answer to my doubts, and rest to my 
inquiries, in regard to one of the most difficult and 
sublime themes of Christian theology. And if I had 
passed my life in the Orthodox atmosphere of my 
native state, I should probably have died in darkness 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 407 

and unbelief as to the real character of my heavenly 
Father, and the true teachings of his Son Jesus 
Clu'ist, our Lord and Saviour. 

The instructive conversations which I enjoyed, 
when entertained l)y the hospitalities of this ben- 
efactor, led me to change and modify my ideas on 
many important to])ics relating to morals, society, 
political science, and religion. To him might be a|> 
plied the following lines : — 

" Unbiased or by favor or by spite ; 
Not dully prepossessed, nor blindly ri^ht ; 
Though learned, well-bred ; and though well-bred, sincere ; 
Jilessed with a taste exact, yet unconfined, 
A knowledge both of books and humankind, 
Generous converse, a soul exempt from pride, 
Who loved to praise with reason on his side." 

When I l)ocnme strong enough to travel, this noble- 
hearted man sent me off, in his own private carriage, 
and at his own expense, to seek the recuperation of 
my health at a ccleljratcd watering place. If I had 
been a son, he could not have done more for me. 
When memory retraces the past, I cannot call to 
mind a more beautiful character. He was adorned 
with every species of moral excellence — wisdom, 
humility, unsullied honor, unswerving truth ; all the 
gentle, soft, social, and refined virtues — mildness, 
compassion, generosity ; and the most conscientious 
regard to the rights and welfare of the bondmen 
whom God had committed to his hands. Yet he was 
a self-made man. His genius had been developed 
entirely l)y private study and application, without the 
fostering aid of any public institution of learning. 



408 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

Having been graduated at Yale College, under the 
presidency of Dr. Dwiglit, as a general student, in 
the regular progress of a university education, I 
was of course made acquainted with the outlines of 
the principal branches of human knowledge. Not- 
withstanding, during my stay witli this gentleman, 
no topic of conversation engaged our attention which 
did not appear familiar to him. Indeed, the com- 
bined resources of science and literature seemed to 
shed their lustre over his intellect and words, Avitli 
the exception of what are called the ancient classics, 
or a knowledge of Latin and Greek authors in their 
vernacular tongues. The best translations of these 
works he had diligently perused. 

Now, although, in my forty years' sojourn at the 
south, I have not met numerous instances, in rural 
districts, of persons equally enlightened and exalted 
with the one just named, yet I can testify that, 
throughout the entire range of the slavcholding 
communities, the owners and cultivators of the soil 
are quite as intelligent as in any section of the free 
states. And although the children of poor parents 
too often grow up with little or no schooling, yet 
from other sources they obtain a degree of knowledge 
vastly superior to what they are generally reputed to 
possess by their northern brethren. In almost every 
family, however humble, the newspaper, teeming with 
the thoughts of the best scholars, statesmen, and 
thinkers of the land sheds a cheering light. Even 
the cabin or cottage, whose inmates are devoid of the 
rudiments of learning, usually has within its reach 
some neighbor who reads and writes for his unlet- 



KEY. THEODOEE CLAPP. 409 

tered acquaintances. There is hardly a hamlet or 
house in the Southern States which is not embraced 
in the circuit of some itinerant Methodist or Bap- 
tist clergyman. By preaching, Sunday schools, class 
meetings, and other instrumentalities, the noble and 
self-sacrificing pioneers of the gospel spread abroad 
much valual)le iriformation on secular matters among 
the ignorant, besides initiating them into the funda- 
mental principles of the Christian faith. Moreover, 
the universal practice of listening to popular orations 
from aspirants for political offices, which prevails at 
the south, is a great means of diffusing knowledge 
and wisdom throughout all the humbler classes of 
society, so that most of those who have not enjoyed 
the advantages of even a rudimental education have 
the intelligence requisite to fill their stations in life 
with honor to themselves and usefulness to others. 
Often have I formed the acquaintance of persons 
that could not write nor read, who moved with repu- 
tation and success in the sphere of duty which had 
been assigned them by Providence. Among such I 
have seen many pure-minded, conscientious, and 
lovely characters. 

I have been struck with the marked and peculiar 
character of southerners, in their hospitality to those 
who come to reside among them, either from the old 
world, or from the free states of the Union. In al- 
most every parish of Louisiana are persons living 
born in New England, whom the generous encour- 
agement of their Creole neighbors has raised from 
indigence and obscurity to the possession of wealth, 
honor, and usefulness. Among the Catholic Creoles 
35 



410 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 

there are persons not imfrequently to be met, whose 
lives reflect the highest charms of moral excellence 
— integrity, truth, honor, disinterestedness, and 
Christian worth. When I call to mind the pure, 
high-minded, liberal friends, who were my stay and 
support throughout the trying scenes which consti- 
tuted my allotments in the Crescent City, I can say, 
in the language of Scripture, " If I forget them, let 
my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not re- 
member them, let my tongue cleave to the roof of 
my mouth, if I prefer not them above my chief joy." 

I remember that the purchase of Louisiana, dur- 
ing Jefferson's administration, was considered by my 
venerable father, and the majority of wise and good 
men in Massachusetts, as a measure imperilling the 
perpetuity of our Union, as fraught with the most 
destructive consequences to the peace and prosperity 
of the American people. The clergy condemned it 
in terms of coarse and bitter denunciation, pro- 
nounced from the pulpit, amid the holy services 
of the sanctuary. Mr. Jefferson, in a printed ser- 
mon, was called a " traitor," " infidel," " profligate," 
" an apostate from the political principles of Wash- 
ington and his illustrious compeers." What has 
been the result ? 

Fifty years have passed since the dreadful deed 
was done which annexed Louisiana to these con- 
federated states. And our population has grown 
from five to nearly thirty millions of inhabitants. 
An area larger than that of the old thirteen states 
has ceased to be a wilderness, and is to-day filled 
with plantations, towns, cities, churches, schools, 



EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 411 

manufactories, inextinguishable enterprise, learning, 
equitable laws, and all the unnumbered blessings of 
the highest civilization. No part of the country has 
been more benefited by this extension of our terri- 
tory than the New England people themselves, who 
once allowed their groundless fears to cheat them 
into the delusive idea that it would ultimately prove 
the ruin of our glorious republic. Now they all ex- 
claim, " What a wise, just, far-seeing, and provident 
statesman was Jefferson !" He is ranked in the same 
class with "Washington, Franklin, Adams, Hamilton, 
and other American patriots of world-wide and ever- 
lasting renown. And I doubt not but after the lapse 
of a few years, the intelligent, patriotic men of the 
north will look back upon the policy and measures 
of our national government at the present day with 
approbation and joy, and pronounce them to have 
been, all things considered, as wise, just, and benefi- 
cent as those of any preceding administration with 
which it has pleased Heaven to bless and build up 
this confederacy of states. 

Humble as I am in every particular, few persons 
have lived to my age who could call to mind a hap- 
pier retrospect than that which memory presents to 
my grateful, contented, and rejoicing heart. I have 
always had troops of friends, who delighted to do 
their utmost to promote my honor and prosperity. 
There is not a person living Avhom I regard as an 
enemy. Even among those who reprobate my reli- 
gious teachings as erroneous, and calculated to sow 
moral contagion, I have many warm and affection- 
ate friends, who, if it were necessary, would be will- 



412 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OP 

ing to lay down their lives to secure my everlasting 
salvation. In the allotments of a lowly life, Provi- 
dence has invited me to taste freely of every kind 
of temporal happiness which earth can afford. For 
though without wealth, I have had access to all the 
selfish pleasures which the largest wealth is able to 
bestow. 

To my eye the future, whether relating to myself 
or to the entire race of man, — the future both of 
time and eternity, — is inexpressibly bright and glo- 
rious. The world is just beginning to see the power 
and sublimities of the principle expressed in the 
following words of inspiration : " Love your ene- 
mies, bless them that curse you, do good to them 
that hate you," &c. Throughout civilized lands it 
is now the prevailing conviction of the wisest and 
best of patriots. Christians, and philanthropists, that 
the resources of that love of which Jesus Christ was 
a living, spotless embodiment, as set forth in the New 
Testament, may be so wielded as to overcome all the 
moral evil on earth. 

The worst person is not totally depraved, nor 
wholly and forever cast off, and shut out from the 
vivifying beams of infinite, inexhaustible, unchan- 
ging Love. The elements of undying virtue lie dor- 
mant in the most corrupt heart, waiting for the 
auspicious moment, when, quickened by the Holy 
Spirit, they will arouse from the trance of sin to run 
the race of everlasting progression in refinement and 
glory. No sinner ever was, no sinner ever will be, 
no sinner ever can be, placed beyond the reach of 
final redemption. Let the truth that God is love pen- 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 413 

etrate the mists of error and ignorance which becloud 
the most abandoned mind ; let the veriest wretch feel 
that the Creator has showered upon him the richest 
blessings, by ordaining his existence in this world of 
death and depravity, and that He is infinitely more 
devoted to the welfare of the poorest sinner than 
the fondest mother to that of an only and beloved 
infant, — then the scales would immediately fall from 
his eyes, allowing him to gaze with unobstructed 
vision upon the perfections of the Supreme Divinity, 
and the transporting prospects of a spiritual state 
rising in all the glories of immortality beyond the 
dark ruins of earth and time. 

The Bible authorizes us to anticipate a millennial 
era, when every individual will enjoy the knowledge 
of God — the only source of man's highest good ; 
when all the impoverished, prostrate, broken and 
contaminated millions of our race will rise to intel- 
lectual culture, freedom, faitli, penitence, sanctity, 
and that everlasting life which Infinitude, Omnip- 
otence, Boundless JVIercy has provided for man's 
present and everlasting inheritance. 

Moreover, it is an item of revealed truth that all 
the events, errors, and calamities of time are over- 
ruled by Infinite wisdom, so as to secure the highest 
happiness of each member of the human family. 
God cannot be disappointed. He has his own way. 
His whole pleasure is accomplislied in defiance 
of the sins and follies of his children. All things 
are contained in the Eternal Cause, as the oak is 
contained in the acorn ; and without the will, the ai> 
35* 



41-1 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

pointment of that Cause could never have come into 
existence, whether good or had. 

" One adequate support 
TVIidst the calamities of mortal life 
Exists, one only — an assured belief 
That the procession of our fate, however 
Sad, or disturbed, is ordered by a Being 
Of infinite benevolence and power, 
Whose everlasting purposes embrace 
Whatever happens, converting it to good." 

The criminal, the drunkard, the libertine, and the 
gambler — the most atrocious transgressors of every 
gi'ade — are unconsciously and every moment under 
the government of laws which cannot fail to work 
out, ultimately, the great and beneficent results for 
which they were created — the enjoyment of a per- 
fectly holy and happy existence. 

This divine faith has been my panoply against the 
assaults of foes without and within. It has con- 
stantly opened to my view a boundless prospect of 
beauty, a prospect all brightness and beatitude, un- 
dimmed by the clouds of gloom, despondency, and 
secret scepticism, which must, of course, darken and 
chill the souls of those who cannot see Infinite Love 
enthroned and reigning over the destinies of every hu- 
man being throughout time and eternity. When I 
look upon the most forbidding forms of sin and suffer- 
ing around me, I am encouraged by the teaching of 
Scripture, that they are the necessary means, to us 
inscrutable, of spreading before an admiring universe 
the sublimest dispensations and counsels of Heaven's 
highest wisdom and benevolence. I am happy be- 
cause Jesus Christ has enabled me to see the hand 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 415 

of God directing all the events and ordinances, fates 
and fortunes, trials and vicissitudes which make up 
the allotments of man's mysterious life on earth, caus- 
ing even disease, disappointment, error, depravity, 
infatuation, the excesses and frivolities of pleasure, 
avarice, and pride, sadness and sorrow, oppression 
and injustice, sickness, mortality, and the grave, to 
work out issues, like himself, good and glorious only, 
and whose consequences will be commensurate witli 
the unfoldings of eternity. 

When I commenced these sketches, it was a part 
of my programme to dwell with a good deal of par- 
ticularity on the remarkably noble and generous 
deportment towards me invariably practised, not by 
my parishioners alone, but also by all classes of in- 
habitants in New Orleans, both Protestant and 
Catholic. In most cases the opposition which I 
encountered while residing there was started and 
kept up by strangers and non-residents. My own 
congregation stood firmly l)y me when I was ma- 
ligned, denounced, and excommunicated by the gen- 
eral voice of ministers and churches beyond the lim- 
its of New Orleans. There, in the darkest hours, 
when storms of vituperation beat upon me, I al- 
ways found a refuge, a complete asylum, in the 
smiles and encouragement, the protection and sym- 
pathy, of enlightened, disinterested, and munificent 
friends. I look back upon those instances of kind- 
ness as the most beautiful spots in the retrospect of 
the past, as the happiest scenes of my earthly allot- 
ments, and with the liveliest emotions of joy and 
gratitude to my heavenly Father. 



416 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

Though receiving a salary of five thousand dollars 
a year, yet I laid up nothing, in consequence of in- 
cessant disbursements for the relief of the distress 
and destitution which parochial visits or direct appli- 
cations brought me acquainted with, nearly every 
day of my life. Who can refuse to administer to 
the wants of the sick and dying within his reach ? 
But though always poor, I was never embarrassed or 
straitened, with respect to either the necessaries or 
comforts of life. The bounty of my personal friends, 
when the church treasury happened to be empty, was 
a rich and inexhaustible bank, and my drafts there- 
on, however exorbitant, were never dishonored. My 
parishioners did not care to ask what my poor ser- 
vices were worth, upon the quid pro quo principle of 
commercial transactions, but simply what was neces- 
sary to supply my reasonable wants. No minister 
ever lived in the United States more blessed with 
the sunshine of warm, liberal, and unwavering 
friends, than I have been. They threw over me the 
S3gis of their protection in the dark hour when the 
storm of popular prejudice and persecuting clamor 
was imperilling, not simply my standing in the 
church, my Christian character, but also my reputa- 
tion as a man of honor and fair dealing. My con- 
gregation enriched me with unfailing stores of sym- 
pathy and love, more precious, in the estimation of a 
right-minded pastor, than all the gold of California. 
The attachment which always characterized my rela- 
tion to the church in New Orleans is dimly shadowed 
forth in the following communication : — 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 417 



To the Members of the First Congregational Unitarian ChurcJi, 
New Orleans, Louisiana. 

Dearly Beloved Brethren: Compelled by ill 
health to relinquish a pastoral connection of thirty- 
five years' standing, — a connection endeared to me 
by all that is sacred, precious, and affecting in 
memory, by those absorbing and unspeakable hopes, 
Avhich, crossing the theatre of time and the gulf of 
death, open to our view the ever-expanding scenes, 
wonders, and glories of an immortal being, — the 
mournful duty devolves upon me of bidding you 
each and all a most affectionate farewell ! Fare- 
well ! I have written the word weeping — with a 
heart overflowing with those deep and tender emo- 
tions which no language has power to express. 

For a long time, it has been one of my strongest 
desires that I might be permitted to breathe my last 
in your presence, surrounded by those who are as 
dear to me as my own soul. Yes, it was ever to me 
a most cherished, favorite hope, that the hands of 
kind parishioners would at last close my eyes, and 
consign my frail body to its final resting place, to the 
long, peaceful sleep of the tomb — that gate of a 
nobler life, that portal through which, after the trials, 
distresses, and bereavements of time are over, we 
shall pass to enter upon joys unimaginable, unal- 
loyed, and unceasing, in the presence of God, and 
Jesus, and all the loved and lost ones of our earthly 
pilgrimage. 

But a wise and merciful Father has been pleased 
to disappoint me ; and this disappointment is the se- 



418 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 

verest trial wliicli I have ever been called on to en- 
dure. There are hours when it comes down upon 
me like a crushing, insupportable burden. I solicit 
an interest in jowr daily prayers, that the grace of 
God may be sufficient for me. New Orleans is ren- 
dered to my soul the sweetest spot on earth, by in- 
numerable associations of the most interesting char- 
acter, by those heartfelt attachments, by those joyous 
and sorrowful experiences, and by tliose elevated, 
sanctifying contemplations and labors with respect to 
the great themes of religion, which the oblivious 
waters of time, change, or death itself can never 
erase, but will only stamp thereon the seal of an 
endless perpetuity. 

The happiest portions of my past life were the 
calm, sacred hours of heavenly peace and satisfaction 
enjoyed when I met you from Sabbath to Sabbath, to 
be baptized in the life-giving truths and hopes of 
Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith — a peace 
and satisfaction never marred by a single instance of 
serious alienation, harshness, or discordance of feel- 
ing, during the thirty-five years' continuance of that 
most exalted and affecting relationship by which we 
were united. The spiritual peace of which I have 
been so long a partaker in your communion is worth 
more, in my most deliberate estimation, than all the 
perishable treasures of earth. Most tenderly, sa- 
credly, and thankfully shall I remember it, until 
memory has lost its seat in my soul. 

I wish it were in my power to find words to con- 
vey to you my grateful sense of your uninterrupted 
friendship and kindness from the beginning of our 



REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 419 

acquaintance to the present hour. More especially do 
I thank you for the considerate and forbearing spirit 
which you have invariably manifested, in throwing 
the mantle of charity and oblivion over the numer- 
ous peculiarities of my constitutional temperament, 
and the many short-comings and imperfections that 
marked my professional career whilst with you. I 
rejoice to hear of the safe arrival of my successor in 
New Orleans. He comes to you in all the freshness 
of youth, animated with the fire of a superior genius, 
ardent piety, noble sensibilities, a copious fund of 
knowledge, and powers of oratory, by which, united 
to habits of systematic, persevering exertion, and the 
blessing of Heaven, he may become a most useful, 
honored, and brilliant minister of tlie gospel, and 
build up a church that will be a light and ornament 
to the city in whicli it has pleased Providence to 
cast your lot. 

And now, dear brethren, I commend you to God, 
and to the word of his grace, whicli is able to build 
you up, and to give you an inheritance among all 
them which are sanctified. However separated in 
space, may we be cemented by tender and hallowed 
memories on earth, and beyond the grave meet again, 
to unite in the ineffable worship of that temple not 
made with hands, eternal in the heavens. The grace 
of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God our Father, 
and the communion of their Holy Spirit, be with 
you all, now and forcvermore. Amen. 

T. Clapp. 



H 98 89 '^'-^ 



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